


My Favorite Faded Fantasy

by SmoakingGreenArrow



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Bratva, Bunker Sex, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Hospital Sex, Ivy Town, Ivy Town memories, Lian Yu, NSFW, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Rough Sex, Russia, Sex, Shameless Smut, Smut, They do it in Verdant, Wall Sex, island sex, olicity - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-30
Updated: 2018-03-02
Packaged: 2018-11-21 13:46:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 60,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11358729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmoakingGreenArrow/pseuds/SmoakingGreenArrow
Summary: A retelling of Olicity through smut; each chapter uses a canon moment and changes their story.





	1. Season One: Oliver

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you have as much fun reading this as I had writing it! Each chapter will take a canon scene and retell the story, containing smut of course. The chapters will alternate between Oliver's and Felicity's perspective. I have some of the chapters written, and at least ideas for all of them! I'm very excited about this!  
> This chapter begins with Oliver, in season one, so chapter two will be Felicity's perspective in season one, and so on.  
> This is my first time writing smut with all the dirty details;)  
> Please let me know what you think!  
> Enjoy!!

It was after Helena tied her up and left her there; face down on the floor with her hands tied behind her back. All while he’d been… _busy_. He couldn’t shake the knot in his stomach, the anger pulsing through him causing his whole body to tremble, the feeling that something was wrong. He’d _felt_ it, and he’d ignored it. But even more than any of that, he couldn’t shake the thought of why Helena would go after Felicity. She could have found a million different ways to find her father, but she chose to use Felicity; like she knew it would piss him right the hell off.

And it did.

It bounced around over and over in his head, and every time, he tried his hardest to forget the answer that he’d known deep down since he met Felicity.

He tried _damn_ hard to forget the way it felt to hear her voice…that voicemail, her little gasp and then Helena’s voice as she took the phone from Felicity.

Oliver sat in her chair, looking at her computers, wondering why the hell he thought it was even a good idea to get her involved. He shook his head, trying to shove back the answer that popped into his head; _you wanted her near you._

He shoved back in her chair as he stood up, listening to it crash against the wall and pounding his fists against the table, cursing under his breath. He didn’t want to be there anymore, but he only had one place he actually wanted to go. Only one person he wanted to talk to. He paced back and forth, trying to talk himself out of it until an excuse came to mind that he convinced himself was worth it.

So, he left. He kept his mind blank as he rode to her apartment.

When he reached it, he glanced at her window just in time to see her pulling the curtain back at the sound of his bike. He saw her mouth drop and her eyebrows raise in surprise. He parked in front of her townhouse and pulled his helmet off, keeping his eyes on her as she watched him, relief filling him just at the sight of her, standing at her window in pajama shorts and a tank top, a cup of tea between her hands. When she didn’t move and continued to stare at him, he got off his bike, watching as the curtains dropped shut.

He took a deep breath and slowly made his way to her door. He knocked gently, and it swung open immediately. “Oliver,” she breathed.

“Hi.” He breathed back, lowering his hand. He glanced down her body, noting that she pulled a robe on over her pajamas, not that it was much better. The silky material barely reached her thighs, the dip in the front hanging loose and low. Oliver pried his eyes away, he cleared his throat, reaching his hands out to grip the doorframe as he composed himself. His heart ached as he glanced away, feeling even more guilty and awful about himself for checking her out; it was something the old him would do. He’d sleep with some girl, then wind up on the front porch of another a few hours later, deluding her into thinking that he was checking up on her, just so she would invite him inside.

But that wasn’t what he’d meant to do…the thought of her alone and not having someone to talk to was what made him get on his bike and go to her. The idea that she was in as much pain as he was. The image of her tied up on that floor.

He logged in the back of his mind the way she took a step back…away from him. He exhaled, glancing up. “I just wanted to make sure that you were okay. After…Helena…what happened.” He mumbled, the excuse rolling off his tongue.

Felicity crossed her arms, “I’m fine, Oliver.” He leaned back, nodding. He couldn’t blame her for being cold, for shying away from him. She was smart. She knew what was good for her and he wasn’t it. No matter how badly he wished that he was.

Oliver closed his eyes, shoving that thought out of his mind like he always did, not wanting to let his thoughts go _there_.

“Okay…” he whispered. “I should go.”

He gave her one more look, watching as she pulled her lip into her mouth, biting down on it as her eyebrows furrowed. He turned without another word, walking as fast as he could without sprinting out of there.

He’d never felt more like an idiot.

Felicity may have dropped a few adorable, awkward comments hinting that she found him attractive…but that was a huge leap from actually wanting to be with him, to spend time with him, especially on the night that his kind of ex-girlfriend attacked her while he’d been sleeping with his kind of current girlfriend.

He was broken. He was baggage. And she knew it.

She knew to steer clear of him and all of the shit he carried with him. And in his fucked up mind, he was proud of her for that.

“Oliver.”

He froze, his hands on his helmet. He turned around slowly, his eyes finding hers from where she stood, barefoot on the pavement, crossing her arms to fight off the biting cold. “Do you want to come in?” She asked softly.

Oliver sighed, “You don’t have to…this was…I shouldn’t have come…”

She stared at him, raising an eyebrow. “Oliver, do you want to come inside?”

He closed his eyes, nodding, “Yes.”

“Wait really?” Her voice faltered, panic rising. Her knew her well enough to know that she was nervous.

Oliver laughed softly, opening his eyes to meet hers, he nodded again, amused by the surprise on her face.

“Uh, okay,” she said, walking back to her open door and waiting. He followed, letting himself feel relieved that he’d at least be able to be in her presence for a little while longer. He needed her. And that scared him more than anything, but it didn’t change the fact that it was true.

She shut the door behind him. “Would you like a drink?”

Oliver shook his head, hesitating at her door while he took in her apartment, finally seeing how she lived. It was small, but it had _her_ all over it, from the three pairs of high heels at the door to the set of computers in the corner, and the book on the coffee table beside her glasses. She pursed her lips, sitting down on her couch and playing with her fingers, clearly feeling a little bit uncomfortable at his unannounced visit. He realized that it was a little strange for him to just drop by, considering he’d never even mentioned that he knew where she lived.

He wouldn’t apologize for that though, Diggle did too. They’d found her address the first time he met her, asking to fix his bullet-ridden laptop. It was a precautious measure, just in case. But he knew what he planned on doing, and if he was going to keep involving her, he needed to know exactly where to find her if something went wrong. She continued to glance between him and her fingers, and he wondered what she was about to ask, since she clearly had something on her mind.

The need he’d felt to see her still trumped the awkward silence in the room. “Felicity…” he started.

“Can you just…sit, please?” She asked.

Oliver smiled slightly, “Okay.” He walked past the two open chairs to sit beside her on the couch, rewarding him a confused look from her. He cleared his throat, not wanting to admit that it hadn’t even crossed his mind to sit somewhere else. “Are you sure you’re all right?” he asked lamely, not really knowing what to say now that he’d already asked that question. Checking on her was his excuse to see her, and she seemed fine…yet he still didn’t want to leave her. He shook his head slightly, he should have known that she was okay. She was one of the strongest people he knew.

She nodded, “Yeah, I mean, your crazy ex-girlfriend tied me up and left me on the floor of my office…what would bother me about that?”

Oliver looked down at his hands, wondering why she’d even let him into her apartment, why she’d let him into her life at all. “I’m so sorry.” He mumbled into his lap. When she didn’t respond, his breath caught in his throat, waiting for her to yell at him, to be angry at him for not getting to her sooner, for not answering the damn phone.

When he’d first found her, she’d apologized to him, making him feel even worse about not being there. But now that she’d had a few hours to think like he had, he knew she must be just as angry at him as he was.

He felt her finger graze his jaw and he froze. Everything froze; her touch sending heat from her fingertips to his core. She pulled his chin up to look at her. “What are you sorry for?” She whispered.

“I should have been there.” He said sternly, obviously.  He let the sensation of her fingers on his skin allow him to feel a little better. She narrowed her eyes at him, and he felt his self-hatred rise in his throat at the admission, knowing that he was going to tell her why he hadn’t been there and she would blame him too. She’d hate him.

Felicity smiled at him, dropping her fingers from his face, “You aren’t required to answer the phone every time I call, Oliver. I’m not…your mom…or your… _girlfriend_ , or anything.”

Oliver stared at her; the thought of her being his girlfriend sending an embarrassing flush to his cheeks.

Now it was her turn to avoid eye contact. She stared down at her fingers, continuing to play with them as she spoke. He returned her gesture, using his fingers to lift her chin to meet his eyes. She sighed, moving her face out of his grip and reaching for her mug of tea on the coffee table in front of them. Oliver’s eyes flickered down to her movement, and his hand instinctively darted out to catch her arm before she took her cup.

His eyes narrowed at the bruises on her wrists from the restraints Helena had used.

She jerked away from him, and he closed his eyes, bringing his hands together and sighing. “Oliver, what is wrong with you?”

“I don’t know,” he whispered, keeping his eyes closed. “I don’t know what to think…I just know how it felt to get that message from Helena…to realize that she had you and that she could hurt you…and I…I’m not proud of how _much_ I don’t like this feeling.”

“Oliver, I’m fine. I’m _fine_ ,” He just shook his head and she stared for a moment. He could feel her gaze on his face even with his eyes closed. “I don’t understand…” she finally whispered.

Oliver hung his head, rubbing his neck, “When you called…when I missed your message…I was with McKenna.”

“So?” Felicity waved her hand, “Oliver, so what?”

He hesitated, “I was _with_ her.”

“Oh,” she answered, and Oliver squeezed his eyes shut tighter at what he thought was disappointment in her voice. He wasn’t sure when or how it happened, but at some point she’d become the absolute last person in his life that he wanted to disappoint. “Well, Oliver…that shouldn’t make you feel guilty…”

“It does.” He admitted, his voice almost a growl. “But that’s not all it is. I’ve been ignoring this…this idea in my head. About you. And I guess tonight was my way of trying to get rid of it for good.”

“What are you talking about?” She laughed gently, “What idea?”

“ _Us_.” He said, so quietly she barely heard him.

“Us what? I mean, the idea of us, you know, doing what?”

Oliver opened his eyes to look at her, hoping she’d understand without him having to explain it. She stared back, her eyes wide and nervous, and he watched as she swallowed…as if she was afraid. As she should be. She should be afraid of him.

 “Oliver, you don’t…you just feel bad for what you were doing when I called and the fact that it made you miss my call. You’re just…you’re blaming yourself, like you always do, and somehow that’s convincing you that it was something it wasn’t.”

“No, Felicity.” He said, sighing and resigning to tell her everything now, since he’d already started. “I’ve been trying to get _you_ out of my head. Because… I don’t ever want you to get hurt because of me. And because….” He hesitated, taking a deep breath and meeting her eyes, “And because I know that you, Felicity Smoak…deserve so much better than what I dragged you into.”

Felicity shook her head, “Oliver…”

“You don’t have to say anything, Felicity. I just meant to…I don’t know, check on you, I guess.” His mouth tasted of his poor excuse. “I needed to know that you were okay…” He took a deep breath, “But honestly, I think that I needed _you_ to make _me_ feel better more than the other way around. I can’t help but wonder if I had just been honest in the first place, instead of pushing it down…where I would have been…It was my fault that you got hurt tonight…my fault that you have those bruises on your wrists, and I’m…I’m sorry.”

“Oliver, stop it.” Her voice swelled in anger, and he closed his eyes again, accepting it. “Stop putting everything on your shoulders. _I_ made the decision to join your team. I _chose_ to do this with you. You don’t get to take my life and my choices and act like it’s all on you. That’s not fair.”

“You’re right,” he sighed, “And it’s _my_ decision to tell you that you’re off the team.” He said softly. He’d been thinking about doing it, but never thought that he could do it.

Until tonight.

He relied on her too much. He needed her too much. He told himself it was just for her computer skills, that it’d be a major setback to not have her help. But the truth was that just seeing her every day gave him _something_ , some kind of motivation that he couldn’t explain. She’d become something more to him rather quickly, and he hadn’t known how to handle it.

Now he did. He needed her safe, even if that meant not being able to see her every day. He had to be selfless, tonight taught him that.

“Fuck you, Oliver.” She snapped instantly, not even hesitating to digest his words, like she expected it. Her insult and her tone making his head jerk back in shock.

Oliver’s eyes flew open, meeting her fiery gaze. She looked angry as all hell, but there were tears behind her gorgeous blue eyes, and his guilt over this whole night reached its’ boiling point. He cupped her face in his hand and she shoved it away. He shook his head, “I should go.” He said quietly, his whole body in a war between getting up and walking out and trying to touch her again, to comfort her, to take it back.

“Yeah,” she said, blinking and glancing away from him, “You should.”

Oliver stood up slowly, feeling like the past five years had caught up to him all in that one moment. “I’m sorry that I only made you feel worse.” He mumbled.

Felicity glared at him as he passed her and then she shot up, “You know what, Oliver, maybe you should stop apologizing for your decisions and _change_ instead.” She paced over to him to poke a harsh finger into his chest, “You know,” she said, “you almost told me exactly what I’ve wanted to hear from you for a while now…but you can’t even say it,”

She met his eyes, and he cocked his head to the side.

“You can’t even say it, can you?” She whispered. Felicity stepped back, crossing her arms. “ _You_ destroy your own happiness, Oliver. You push people out…when all they want is to be close to you.”

Oliver kept his gaze on her, working on convincing himself that he was misinterpreting the meaning of what she was saying, because someone as bright, and beautiful, and kind-hearted as her couldn’t possibly be saying that she wanted to be close to someone like him.

“You deserve better…” he trailed off, trying to avoid this conversation because he knew that it would end with him walking out of her apartment with his stomach in knots. He knew that if he crossed a line with her, he’d ruin it, and then he couldn’t take it back.

 This conversation would end in her hating him, never speaking to him again. That was what made him bite his tongue every time he had the urge to tell her what he really thought of her; how beautiful he found her, how intoxicating her presence was, how it felt to just listen to her talk about things he didn’t even understand but he wanted to hear anyway because it was coming from her lips.

“ _My_ life.” She said harshly. “ _My_ decision.”

He stepped closer, the anger she was emanating drawing him in, like he wanted to feel the warmth of it. “What do you want to hear, Felicity?”

“The _truth_ , Oliver.” She hissed back through her teeth, her eyes hot on his.

He lifted his chin, staring down at her. “The truth…” She nodded, licking her lips as he watched. He wasn’t sure if it was her angry energy, or the sight of her tongue wetting her pink lips, but his voice was rough and low when he finished, “is that you are… _way_ too good for me…Felicity.”

The tense silence between them had his heart in his throat. “To think that I’m too good for you…would imply…that you…have thought about…”

“I have.” He said strongly, interrupting her babbling, keeping his eyes on hers, insisting on holding her gaze.

Felicity stepped closer, close enough that she had to tilt her head up to look at him, and he shook his head slightly, wondering why she looked like she was about to kiss him. He knew that if she did, she would regret it later…when she actually thought about it. He inhaled sharply, trying to get his head on straight enough to stop her if she did try to kiss him; to protect her from that mistake. It’d just be selfish to let her, knowing that it was the only thing he wanted at the same time.

With her that close, he could smell the soft scent of her shampoo, and he could feel the silk of her robe as it brushed against his arm. She took another step towards him, her body brushing against his. Oliver felt her soft and warm skin as she reached forward and took both of his hands in hers. His lids fluttered shut when he heard her small sigh, as if she was celebrating in the victory of touching him without him jerking away from her.

He was prepared to fight it. He wished he could fight it. But he couldn’t think of anything that he wanted more than her…he hadn’t been able to think of anything that he wanted more than her in a long time, if he was being honest. But he’d convinced himself that he wasn’t good enough for her, that he would only bring her pain…yet here she was in front of him…touching him. Felicity leaned into him, keeping her fingers laced in his as she slowly rested her head on his chest, sighing deeply.

“ _Felicity_ …” he started, racking his brain to find an argument that would convince her to step away from him, because his feet felt like lead and he knew that there wasn’t a chance in hell that he was going to be able to stop it. He glanced down, his lips brushing across the top of her head and she _hummed_ , nuzzling her nose into his neck and dropping his hands, just long enough to reach up and wrap her arms tightly around his waist.

He held his breath as she clung to him, keeping his arms at his sides. They felt like cement where they hung, not touching her, until he heard her little noise of discontent, her hips wiggling to get closer to him. Oliver’s arms wound around her in response, knowing that it was exactly what she was looking for. And she sighed, like he had just given her everything she needed. The thought made him tighten his grip, and she responded by flattening her palms against his back, hitching herself higher and closer. “Felicity…” he groaned, not completely sure if it was in pleasure or protest. He turned his face down to her, about to tell her that he needed to leave. _Now_. Before he did something that she would regret. Because he knew he never could.

He didn’t have a chance to finish his sentence when she used her leverage to reach the perfect angle…and the next thing he knew, she was kissing him.

He groaned at the sudden feeling of her lips pressed to his, and in the pleasure of it. He’d imagined kissing her in a million different ways, but he couldn’t have imagined how it would feel, how she would _taste_. And it was perfect.

His body was begging him to deepen it, to push her until her back was on that couch and he was on top of her, to grab her and pull her hips against his. But he didn’t do anything besides purse his lips to meet hers, letting her kiss him in the most chaste way.

She moved her lips to form around his bottom lip, and he sighed, slipping his tongue out to taste her even more. And her response was a moan that had a certain part of his body hardening. He felt his grip on her waist tightening, and he pulled his lips away from hers quickly. “Felicity, Felicity stop.” He choked out.

“No.” She answered. When he glanced down at her, he saw a fire in her eyes that he hadn’t ever seen before, and he licked his lips, trying again to think of a way to get her to see things the way that he did. She should hate him for what happened tonight, for coming into her life at all…not rubbing small circles on his neck encouragingly, telling him that it was okay. “Oliver,”

She waited until his eyes dropped to meet hers, and she smiled. “I want this.”

He sighed.

“Kiss me. Please.” She mumbled. Oliver groaned, dipping his head to catch her lips with his. How could he even consider saying no to that? He didn’t stop himself this time, turning her so that her back was against her front door and raising her hands over her head, pressing them to the door where their fingers intertwined. He felt her gasp, her tongue meeting his as she opened her mouth. “Oliver, _yes_.” She moaned, giving him everything he needed, telling him that she wanted him as much as he’d always wanted her.

Her grip on his hands was tight, but he released her fingers so that he could run his hands down her body, feeling every part of her that he could. His fingers were light as feathers as he ran them over her wrists, her arms, and down her sides, his mouth devouring hers the whole time. Her hands dropped to his shoulders and he kept his safely at her hips, keeping her pressed to the door and himself far enough away that he wasn’t tempted to rub against her.

 He focused on her lips, just her soft, plump lips as they played with his, sucking and nipping at his in a way that made his heart race and his pants feel a whole lot tighter. “ _Shit_ ,” he hissed when she took his bottom lip between hers and _bit_. She was already the best kisser he’d ever had the pleasure of kissing, and that was before she did _that_. He took a deep breath, trying to control himself with her.

She groaned at his curse, his response to her, shoving his hands away that held her at a slight distance and leaning towards him, rolling her hips against his and groaning when she got the friction she was looking for, when she felt his erection pressed against her heat, felt what she’d been doing to him. “Felicity…” he said again, saying her name like he was begging for more of her rather than warning her to stop like he had intended. “I _need_ you to stop.”

“Why?” She breathed against his mouth, continuing to kiss him between their words.

He pulled back slightly, “Because I don’t _want_ you to, and I don’t want you to regret it in the morning.”

“You have not been paying attention at all since we met if you think that I would wake up regretting _this_.” She said it in her blunt, unintentionally honest way, but something about the hoarse breathlessness in her voice only turned him on even more.

He forced his lips to still and opened his eyes. Hers slowly opened, but she refused to move her lips from his. His cock twitched as her eyes fluttered open to meet his. The eroticism of her lips still on his as he met her gaze was overwhelming, almost fogging his intention. He gave her one more, chaste kiss as their eyes stayed locked, and it was the most intimate moment he’d ever shared with anyone. He stared down his nose at her, trying to read any hesitation she might be having. He needed to know that this was what she really wanted. All he saw in her eyes was desire, and he knew his own eyes reflected it. “Wait,” She said, finally pulling her lips from his, but only by an inch “are you going to…would _you_ regret it?”

He sighed, knowing that he could say yes; that he could tell her he would regret it and she’d be shoving him out the door. Half of him wanted to, to let that lie roll off his tongue. But then he met her gaze again, and he got the feeling that saying he’d regret this would hurt her more. “No.” He breathed, “Not even for a second.”

She kept her eyes on his as she slowly reached down and untied the belt of her robe, letting it fall to the floor. She hooked her fingers in her pajama shorts and pulled those down to her ankles, leaving herself standing in front of him in only a tank top, her hard nipples showing through the material of the cotton and lace. Oliver took a deep breath, knowing he’d never seen anything as gorgeous as that. His gaze dropped to her naked sex, to the wetness he could see on her thighs, and he groaned. “You’re sure…” he trailed off, breathless, knowing he didn’t have any more resistance in him when she was standing in front of him like this.

Felicity rolled her eyes, crossing the distance between them in two steps and crushing her lips to his. He breathed her in, his hands holding her face and pulling her closer. He brushed her hair over her shoulders, playing with the straps of her thin top, pushing them down her arms. She lifted her arms over her head and he quickly pulled it over her head, tossing it to where she’d left her shorts and robe. He glanced down at her breasts, not surprised at all that they were just as gorgeous and intoxicating as the rest of her.

She reached for his pants, and he waited while she unbuttoned them, expecting her to shove them down his hips, she elicited a sharp hiss from him when she slipped her hand inside his boxers and gripped him. “Fuck, Felicity.”

Felicity smiled against his lips, releasing him to remove his shirt, and then his pants and boxers. He lifted his heavy lids to watch her as she bent over to peel his clothes off him. On her way back up, her hands wound around his hips, pressing a chaste kiss to the scar from the shark, causing him to hold his breath. Then her lips slid across his skin as she kissed the muscles over his stomach, taking her time as she trailed over his scars, sending his heart racing in anticipation yet filling it so completely, making him feel more whole than he had since the boat had gone down…maybe even more whole than he ever had.

He stayed still, wanting to feel her lips heal his scars and needing to see what she’d do next. Felicity trailed her lips all over his stomach and chest, finally pressing a final kiss to the head of his erect cock that made him jerk, before finishing her journey by sliding her lips in quick kisses up his chest, his neck, and his jaw. He stroked her hair and arms as she went, but by the time she reached his lips again, he had no control left.

 He cupped her face with one hand and gripped her hip with the other, pulling her tight against him. He heard her gasp as his cock pressed against her soft stomach, and he groaned into her mouth.

He moved his hips to meet hers, rubbing himself against her and releasing another muffled groan when the head of his cock slid between her lips and he could feel how wet she was. She gasped at the contact, her nails digging into his arms.

Oliver slipped his hand between them, taking himself in his hand and doing it again, moving his erection to rub against her clit, building her up slowly. “You’re so perfect,” he murmured against her lips.

Felicity sighed in response, her grip on his biceps loosening so that she could wrap her arms around his neck. He adjusted himself, pulling away from her only to replace his cock with his fingers, rubbing quick circles, and she let out a sharp cry. “Oh my god, you’re gorgeous.” He sighed as he watched her, absolutely bewitched by her, the way she let go completely, opening herself up to him and letting him touch her, please her. She gave herself over to the feeling, to _him_ , and it was spellbinding.

He experimented, slowing his fingers and watching as her eyes fluttered behind her closed lids, her brow creasing, her hips moving against his hand as she sucked her bottom lip into her mouth. He quickened his pace, mesmerized as her mouth fell open, her head fell back and she mumbled his name, her grip on his shoulders tightening.

He felt her legs beginning to tremble, her nails digging into his back where she held him. He closed his eyes, listening to her soft noises as he rubbed her, basking in how gorgeous she was, how she sounded, how she felt, how she smelled; everything about her.

Oliver slipped his hand between her folds, pressing his middle finger into her and hearing her cry out again, her walls pulsating against his finger, pulling him in. He pulled out and added his index finger, shoving them both inside of her. “ _Oh my god.”_ She groaned. Oliver pushed his fingers in and out of her again and again, and she tightened her grip around him, burying her face in his neck and pressing kisses to his skin. Oliver moved his thumb to circle her clit while his fingers moved inside of her. “Oliver! Oh…yes. _Oliver_ , _yes_.” Her voice was breathy, and he knew that she was close. He could sense it in her, every part of her responding to him, telling him what she liked.

In that moment, he didn’t want anything more than to watch her come in his hands, for him, because of him.

He quickened his pace, growling out her name and telling her how perfect she was, until her legs began to shake, and he could feel her breathing become shallow against his chest. “Oliver!” She cried, her walls tightening around his fingers, and he kept moving his hand, wanting to feel her orgasm with his fingers inside of her. He watched her face, her eyebrows raise, her eyelids rapidly moving as her mouth fell open in a perfect O. He picked her up as she came, lifting her feet off the floor and holding her against his chest, his arm strong around her waist. Oliver held her, his pace slowing as her breathing became more norma

All he could do was stare up at her as she came, watching her mouth drop open, her eyelids fluttering in the sexiest orgasm he’d ever seen. “Oh god,” he whispered, watching and feeling her come making his own need intensify.

“Wow,” she sighed, finally pulling back to look at him. His eyes were dark, his fingers slipping out of her and watching as she bit her lip at the sensitive sensation. 

“Yeah,” he breathed, wondering how that had felt almost as good for him as it did for her.

He’d never been opposed to foreplay or doing things for girls before, but he’d be lying if he said that he’d ever cared so much about pleasing someone.

That was the most erotic and intoxicating thing he’d ever experienced, and she’d barely even touched him. When it came to Felicity, he knew that pleasing her had always been in his fantasies, but it paled in comparison to the real thing.

As soon as she opened her eyes, all he wanted to do was see her come again…to watch the pleasure on her face as _he_ made her climax, knowing that it was _him_ making her feel that good. Seeing Felicity come apart like that, completely trusting as she wrapped her arms around him, it was the hottest thing he’d ever done with a woman before. He needed to do it again.

As if she was reading his mind and determined on proving him wrong, Felicity bit her lip and gave him a confident, beautiful, and especially sexy smile before she lifted her legs to wrap them around his waist. The look in her eye…whatever she planned on doing next, he knew that _that_ would be the hottest thing he ever did with a woman.

He adjusted, his hand slick in her arousal as he gripped her ass with one hand and secured the other around her back, gazing up at her. Tonight was apparently a lot of firsts, because he couldn’t keep his eyes off of her, completely mesmerized by every move she made. His cock twitched as he watched her, adjusting herself to cling to him, she placed each of her palms to his chest and _wiggled_ , giving him a mischievous grin.

Oliver quirked an eyebrow at her, and then she slid down him, and he felt the wetness from her orgasm on his abdomen, and then on his cock as it slipped between her folds. She hissed at the contact on her sensitive sex.

He groaned, gripping her tighter, “Have I ever told you how incredibly sexy you are?” He blurted, his mind unable to stop himself. She stared at him with wide eyes for a moment before letting out a laugh, one that only added to her sexiness, causing his erection to throb at just the sound of it.

Oliver couldn’t ever remember feeling like this about a girl, so turned on by everything she said and did. Just her laugh made him putty in her hands. She smiled down at him as she lifted herself up just to rub herself against his hard cock again.

“No, but you can tell me about it anytime.” She winked. Oliver groaned as she kept grinding her wet sex against him. He lifted his chin up to her, and as she lowered herself down again torturously, she read his mind, gently resting her lips onto his. He ran his tongue over her mouth, and she opened for him. Oliver tasted her, wondering how he’d ever be the same after feeling her like this. And he wasn’t sure he wanted to.

Oliver pulled back, smiling up at her and tightening his grip around her back, stilling her torturous movements. “Do you remember that skirt you wore last Thursday?” He asked, not knowing who the hell he was tonight, since he apparently was not Oliver Queen if he was really about to admit to her what he thought about that skirt.

Felicity cocked her head to the side as she looked down at him, fighting his grip to rotate her hips. He gave her ass a squeeze and she let out a guttural groan, so he did it again. “No,” she answered, her eyes fluttering shut. “I’m shocked that you can even remember what skirt I wore last Thursday.”

“Well, it was blue…and _distracting_.” He breathed, feeling pressure build as he thrusted his hips involuntarily, shallowly grinding against her wet sex.

“Don’t even talk to me about _distracting_ , Mr. Salmon Ladder.” She whispered back, her hips doing the same thing.

Her teasing tone made him chuckle, and he pressed his lips to hers, knowing that there was something special about the way she could make him laugh with her teasing and drive him crazy with her hips all in the same moment. Felicity took his face between her hands, kissing him harder as he taunted her sensitive clit, moving the head of his cock between her wet sex agonizingly slow. “Oliver,” she groaned after another moment of the torture.

He pulled back slightly to look at her; her eyelids hooded in desire and need, her lips swollen. He positioned himself at her entrance, keeping his eyes on hers, part of him still waiting for her to run away screaming that she was making a huge mistake.

And it was like she was reading his mind again as she offered a reassuring smile, keeping her eyes on his…and lowering herself onto him, taking the head of his erection inside of her. She sighed as he pushed further into her, her eyes closing and her head dropping forward to touch her forehead to his. He closed his eyes, pulling out of her and pushing back in slowly.

Felicity moaned, her fingers running over his ears, down his neck and over his shoulders in the softest, most loving, _honest_ of touches that he could ever remember. The thought put a knot in his throat that he quickly swallowed. It was like her fingers were trying to force him to feel it, to feel the spark between them that he’d been feeling long before this moment. He moved inside of her slowly, almost painfully for him, but giving her time to get used to his length.

Between her soothing hands, her forehead against his, and their bodies connecting, Oliver actually felt his heart swell at the perfection of the moment.

“Felicity,” he breathed, pulling out of her, hesitating for one painfully long moment before he shoved back in, deeper than he had before. He kept his eyes half open, watching her face as he filled her completely for the first time. “Oh, god,” he whispered, recognizing the way her eyebrows furrowed, her mouth opening in pleasure as she released another moan…and then her eyes slowly opened to meet his just as he was pushing into her again, and he let out a loud moan at the sight, at the feeling of being inside of her while she watched him, her eyes dark with pleasure. He didn’t think that it was possible to be so turned on just from having a girl _look_ at him.

Oliver kept his eyes on her, as he thrusted in again, harder this time, and she gasped. He paused, wanting her to just _feel_ it, to feel what all of him inside of her felt like.  “Oh my god, Oliver.” She sighed, her arms winding around his neck again.

He gasped when her hips moved quickly against his, seeking friction, needing more. Oliver groaned loudly as she thrusted against him. “Felicity,” He grunted, moving his hand between them to rub her clit. “Hold on to me tight.” He said, feeling himself losing control over things like _slow_ and _easy_ and _gentle_ … He grabbed her arm that had slid down his chest to grip his forearm where he massaged her clit, pulling it back up to his shoulders and guiding her to hold on. Felicity did as he said, her arms winding tightly around his neck again, and he groaned in pain and arousal when she dug her nails into his back, urging him on. He obliged, driving into her hard and fast, hearing her shocked gasp as her head fell back.

He tightened his grip on her back, keeping her body secured against his as he shoved into her again, feeling her legs lock tightly around his waist.

Oliver plunged into her again and again, not stopping when her nails dragged painfully down his neck and back, not stopping when she let out a surprised, loud moan, not stopping when he spun her around to press her back against the wall and she clenched her inner walls around him in punishingly pleasing movements. He could feel her breath hot on his neck as she mumbled incoherently into his ear, her hips grinding against his. Soon he started to hear his name falling from her lips over and over, her voice breathy and full of desire…desire that was for him. It pushed him over the edge, and he grunted, moving faster and harder, chasing his release. He focused on her clit, rubbing her wildly, wanting her to come before he did.

“Oh my god,” she cried, and she felt her walls clamp around him as she came. “Oh my god, Oliver…Oliver, Oliver, Oliver!” Her voice rough as she rode her orgasm, his name falling from her lips like she wasn’t even aware that she was screaming it. The sound of her screaming his name paired with her tight walls pulling him in was his undoing, and he pulled himself out of her quickly, letting go of his grip on her ass and dropping his hand between their bodies as he came, covering her thighs and both of their stomachs in his release.

Neither of them spoke, and he glanced up at her, half embarrassed, half proud as he panted, watching her come down from her orgasm. Felicity smirked down at him as they caught their breaths. He smiled back, licking his lips and wondering how it was even possible to feel his cock twitching again already at the sight of her, naked and hooked around his waist, smiling like she was so _satisfied_.

She reached her hand between them, her lids heavy, and glided her finger against his abs. He watched as she swirled her index finger in his cum and brought it to her mouth, unashamed and brazen as she tasted him; as if she just wanted to know. “Shit, Felicity.” He sighed, closing his eyes and resting his forehead to her chest.

He wondered if she ever thought about him, thought about how he would taste. He’d definitely never fantasized about her licking his cum off of her finger after he’d covered them both in it, but he knew that _that_ image would be in his dreams for a long time to come. His senses felt like they were on overdrive after everything he’d been lucky enough to share with her, more than he ever could have longed to feel.

He opened his eyes and lifted his head to look up at her, his muscles finally feeling a little tired after the most exhausting and perfect sex he’d ever had. She shrugged, “I should probably shower again.” She glanced down at herself, their bodies mingled in both of their juices and sweat.

He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, “Is that an invitation?”

“Of course it is.” She smiled, unhooking her legs from his waist and he helped her back down. He placed her safely on the floor again, and he had to hold her to keep her from wavering. He gave her an arrogant smile and she rolled her eyes. Once she regained the feeling in her legs, she took his hand, leading him to the bathroom.


	2. Season One: Felicity

It was after breaking into Merlyn Global. She never would have thought that she’d be the one to put the brakes on Oliver Queen, but somehow, she had.

Well, she knew how. She was terrified. She’d never _felt_ so much; not during sex, not for one person in her whole life, not ever. And it scared the shit out of her. After their night together, everything seemed so clear, so easy…that she didn’t trust it. She wanted so badly for it to be simple, but she knew it wouldn’t be.

She knew that it would get hard; that he would push and she would pull and they’d fight and it’d get ugly. Relationships always got ugly. People always changed. She was far from a cynic, but just the way that Oliver made her feel…she had no right to believe that she could live happily ever after with him. And it terrified her that a part of her wanted to. So, she’d tried to play it off like it was a one-time thing to her, when in reality, not once that whole night had she thought that it would be the only night she’d get to sleep with him. Being with him for the first time that night felt like the beginning of something, and their shower together had been all smiles and laughter as he’d washed her hair and she’d teased him over the freckle just below his ass.

But the next morning she’d woken up with a feeling of dread that she’d felt throughout her whole life.

Good things don’t last.

Nothing is perfect.

People leave.

She knew it.

 She remembered the hurt look on his face when she’d explained that it had been fun, but it couldn’t happen again if they wanted to continue to work together. And then she remembered that he’d kicked her off the team, and she’d asked if that was still the case, to which he’d shaken his head and whispered that he could never shut her out like that.

And she’d been doing a pretty decent job of exactly that. She shut him out. And she wished she could stop every day. Half of her wanted to apologize, the other half wanted to make him hate her so that she could stop day dreaming about him. And night dreaming. And everything dreaming. Her fantasies varied from replaying their night, which was the hottest sex she’d ever had, to what it’d be like to be married to him, to wake up next to him every day and feel safe, knowing that he was hers. She played out all of these fantasies, fighting with him and make up sex, dream dates, vacations, all the places she’d be fucking him if they’d opened that door, kept it a secret from everyone else…it sounded more and more appealing every day.

And every day that passed, she had to try harder to hold herself back from attacking him whenever he walked into a room.

Despite the fact that her thoughts were constantly on him, she did her best to play it cool.

Then he’d had to go and say something stupid like “Hold on to me tight,” in an elevator shaft, in the middle of an adrenaline-pumping mission, before swinging her around like they were in a James Bond movie or something.

Her eyes had darted to his after he’d said it, remembering the gruff sound of his voice telling her to do the same thing that night; before he’d thrusted into her like a mad man, fucking her senseless and sending her body into an ecstasy of pleasure that had left her shaking.

She had dreams about it most nights, of the sinful look in his eyes as he told her to hold on to him. How he’d pulled her arm up to make sure she had a good grip on him, knowing that he was about to lose control and drive into her frantically. She remembered the way he’d bitten his lip as if to stop whatever noises wanted to escape him, but tiny grunts had still broken through his chest, and it had only increased her pleasure.

She knew that sex would never be as good as that night with Oliver, not just for his skill, but for the connection they’d shared every time their eyes met. No one else would ever top it, and she was even afraid that if it happened again with him, that he’d realize it was just the heat of the moment, and he didn’t _actually_ feel the deep passion and desire that she had felt. That she still felt. Still craved. What if he hadn’t been feeling the fire that she’d experienced?

He’d come over that night because he’d felt guilty, and she didn’t want to give him the chance to overthink it; to tell her that he couldn’t be with her. She ended it before he could hurt her. And it was killing her now because she couldn’t stop wondering if he actually would have. He had been trying to push her away before they’d had sex in her living room…and she thought it would have only been a matter of time before he tried to push her away again.

 She could tell that he wasn’t happy about her decision to end it before it started. But he also didn’t try to convince her otherwise. Like he knew that it was for the best. It only solidified her decision. He had moped around for a while, but eventually he just started ignoring her all together. He seemed unaffected by her, indifferent. And she felt more and more as though he didn’t care for her like she cared for him. Which made the distraction of her daydreams even more inviting. In her mind, Oliver was sweet and gentle and attentive; in the bunker, he barely looked at her. He spoke to her when he had to, but otherwise he seemed annoyed by her presence.

She started leaving early. He started patrolling the streets more frequently. Diggle could definitely feel the tension between his partners.

Most nights, she wondered what Oliver was doing. If he was sleeping with anyone, if he was on a date, if he made other girls feel like their skin was on fire at his touch the way he did to her.

He certainly didn’t seem like he’d forgotten what he could do to her when they were in Merlyn Global. In her ugly Big Belly uniform, she’d stared at him. His eyes had darkened right in front of her as they mesmerized her, and she knew she probably looked like a deer in the headlights. But it was the first flash of remembrance she’d seen, and she knew that his brain was remembering the same moment that hers was; with her body wrapped around him and his hips madly pounding against hers.

After he’d said it, _hold on to me tight_ , and his eyes had met hers, she could see the intensity behind them. She knew that he was thinking of the same moment. She saw him swallow, and she babbled something about platonic circumstances, and he looked away, his face smoothing into the same unfazed expression he’d worn for weeks.

She wondered if he wanted more than the cold stares and awkward silences; at least he had…before they had sex. She just wasn’t sure what he wanted now.

Maybe some kind of friends with benefits deal, but she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t sleep with him and feel the things that she had felt if he wasn’t truly ready to open himself up to her in every way. And she knew he wasn’t ready for that. She knew that pushing him away had hurt him, but she felt like she needed to protect herself in the long run.

That night, she did what she always did when dirty thoughts of Oliver stirred in her mind; she went to her bedroom and got comfortable… _alone_.

But for some reason the vibrator in her nightstand and the memories just weren’t cutting it tonight.

She sighed, frustrated and unsatisfied as she made her way to the kitchen, just needing to make tea and read a book and relax or something. Her eyes darted, as they always did now, to the spot where he’d taken her against the wall, right in her living room and she let out a frustrated sound.

Anger filled her. It wasn’t fair that she had to think about that night every time she walked through her own home, that she had to relive it over and over every night while he was…she didn’t even want to think about where he was or who he was with.

Felicity’s blood boiled as the stress of everything hit her.

Their city might be rubble soon, Oliver was being cold and uncaring, and she needed a release. What was wrong with release?

Felicity grabbed her car keys as her mind raced.

Sex was normal. Natural. There didn’t have to be any deep emotions or passionate gazes with it.

It could just be sex.

And sex with _him_ was amazing. She could turn off the emotional side of it, couldn’t she? Just focus on feeling him; on how skillful he was, how much pleasure he brought her, how incredible _their_ sex was. Yeah. She could do that. No problem.

She knew she wouldn’t be able to not feel _for_ him, something inside of her had reached for something inside of him as soon as they’d met. But maybe she could swallow it. She had to swallow it. Because she needed him, in whatever way she could have him.

She might have been the one to pull the brakes, but he was the one who wasn’t ready to drive off into the sunset.

Right now, it felt like she could handle a physical relationship with him.  It didn’t have to be awkward. They were friends. They worked together to help people. They could be partners and sleep together. They could be friends and fuck each other at the same time. It wasn’t like it was unheard of.

Before she knew it, she was in front of the mansion.

In typical dramatic fashion, thunder rolled over her as she stepped out of her car, her hands shaking around her keys. She glanced up at the sky, sighing at the storm that she could now feel coming.

How poetic.

Her heels clicked against the pavement as she approached the mansion. It was dimly lit, and she stared up at the windows, wondering which one was Oliver’s room, if any of them even were. She wondered if he was even home.

The front door swung open and Oliver came outside, his eyes darting to her. He wore a pair of unbuttoned jeans and nothing else. Felicity paused, her keys digging into her hand painfully but she barely noticed. Her head cocked to the side as he jogged towards her, his lack of clothing was familiar, but something about watching him come out of his home, jogging to her, barefoot and his hair disheveled…felt oddly, beautifully _domestic_.

Why was he naked besides the pants, though? She felt a moment of panic at the thought that he had someone over, and she actually stepped back, ready to run back to her car, before she stopped herself.

He slowed down as he reached her, his hands raising to touch her hair and the sides of her face. His eyes were scanning her over. “What is it?” he asked, his voice strained in what she recognized as stress. He glanced behind her, and then reached down to her hand and covered it with his. She didn’t realize what he was doing until he rubbed his finger against her fist, and she opened it, her keys falling into his hands. “Felicity, what’s wrong?” He asked, his eyes glancing around them, like he was looking for some kind of threat.

 _Oh_. After weeks of avoiding each other, and then her randomly showing up out of the blue, he _was_ looking for a threat. Why else would she be there?

She looked up at him. “What? Nothing…nothing’s wrong. I just…I want to talk to you.” She said, trying her best to find the confidence to propose what she wanted.

He glanced around again, “But you’re okay?”

She nodded, “I’m sorry. I should have just called,” she glanced down his body, “You could be busy.”

Oliver’s jaw tensed, “Do you want to come inside?” He asked, as if to prove that he wasn’t.

She nodded.

“I’m not busy, Felicity.” He mumbled, gesturing his arm in front of him. As she passed, he held out her keys. And once they were back in her palm, she began clutching them again.

“Sorry,” she apologized again, “I just thought…you’re mostly naked…and it’s late…and your hair looks like you’ve been…”

“Sleeping?” he interrupted, and he could hear the anger in his tone, the annoyance. “I sleep naked, Felicity. I haven’t been with anyone since you. And I don’t plan to be anytime soon.”

Her breath caught, a double whammy in one sentence; the new tidbit she could add to her fantasies knowing her slept naked; and knowing that he hadn’t been sleeping with anyone one… _and_ that he didn’t want to. Maybe her plan would work after all. She walked through the open front door into a large foyer.

The hugeness of the mansion made her feel small and a little uncomfortable. There was something eerie and cold about it; like it was barely a home. It didn’t really look like one. The mansion was pristine; no stains, broken furniture, or drawings on the walls like her childhood home.

Felicity crossed her arms, waiting as Oliver closed the door. He nodded towards the stairs, and she gestured for him to go first. Without a word, he moved ahead of her, taking the stairs slowly, and she wondered what he was thinking about. She knew he could move a lot faster, but he took the steps one by one, his hand on the railing, the muscles in his arm and back rolling with his steps as he walked.

She stared at his back, wishing again that he trusted her enough to tell her about those scars. She’d seen them a million times while he worked out, but she’d only seen them once when he was this close. And she’d been a little distracted. If her memory served, she had touched the bite mark on his hip and he had shivered. She wondered if she did it again…if she’d get the same response.

Felicity silently followed him down the hall and into a bedroom. His bedroom.

Her heartbeat picked up, wondering why he didn’t take her to the kitchen or one of the many other rooms in the house, like a living room or a study…or something, but instead brought her to his bedroom. Did he want the night to end the same way she did? On that bed? She gulped, watching him as he shut the door noiselessly behind him before turning to look at her.

Felicity glanced around, noticing that it looked a lot like the rest of his house. There were no posters on the walls or even clothes on the floor. There was a bed, a dresser, a small couch, a coffee table, and a chair in front of a big window. The window overlooked the driveway, and she wondered if he'd been looking down at her when she’d been staring up at these windows, or if she’d woken him up when she pulled in.

His bed was made, besides the slightly rumbled comforter and pillow where he’d clearly just been lying down. “Sorry if I woke you up.” She mumbled.

He shrugged, “What’s going on?”

She glanced from his bed to him, her mind going blank and her heart beat rapidly, pounding on her chest in the silence. She felt her face flush. “Uh…”

“Felicity, you can tell me.”

“It’s just been…a weird day.”

He smiled slightly, “I know. But you can always talk to me. If you ever…I mean, if you ever need someone to tell about your day,” his eyebrow furrowed as his gaze shifted to the floor, “I’ll always be here to listen, Felicity.” He finished, his voice barely audible.

Felicity took a deep breath, trying to swallow the butterflies that were trying to escape from her stomach at his words. She didn’t want to have a heart to heart with him. If she did, it would only make her like him even more than she already did. And yes, she knew that her friends with benefits plan wasn’t much better on that front, but hearing him say that he’d always be there to listen to her just wasn’t helping the ‘no strings attached sex’ plan.

Felicity took a step closer, dropping her keys and her purse onto the couch. “I don’t really want to talk, Oliver.” She said.

Oliver’s eyebrows furrowed even more, confusion crossing his face. She took advantage of his bewilderment, placing her hands on his chest and looking up at him. She bit her lip, raising her chin and glancing down at his lips, inviting him to kiss her. Her hands wandered from his chest to his stomach and back, and his eyes darkened, but he still looked mystified, unsure of what she was doing after she’d been so clear in saying that their night together would stay that one, singular night. She gripped his arms, nodding to him as much as she was nodding to herself, “Oliver…” she said, just his name sounding like every desire she had. She heard his breath catch, his hands coming to her hips instinctively. She knew that he understood her perfectly.

And then she saw anger flash in his eyes as he realized what she was asking for.

Before she could say anything, his lips took hers crushingly, a low growl sounding from his chest.

His grip tightened on her sides. His lips were rough against hers, fuming and unrelenting, but she kept her own lips soft. “Is this what you want, Felicity?” He breathed, frustration in his voice.

She knew that it wasn’t, not in the long run, but at least in that moment…it was.

She opened her eyes, seeing that his were already open as he kissed her. She saw his irritation falter as she met his gaze, his eyes softening as she stared up at him and he must have seen the wide eyed, shocked expression on her face.

She watched his chest rise and fall with his rapid breaths until his eyes finally fluttered closed and he sighed, slowing it. “Is this really how you want me?” He asked softly, keeping his eyes shut. She heard the hurt in his voice, realizing that his angry, harsh kiss was because he felt used. She was showing up at his house, after insisting that there was nothing more between them, basically insinuating that all she wanted was sex.

In a way, she _wished_ that sex was all she wanted from him. But she knew deep down that she wanted more, even if she wasn’t ready to admit it. Not even to herself.

It was the connection that she craved. That she’d been itching for as soon as she woke up to find him still in her bed the morning after they’d slept together. But she’d pushed the desire down. And now it was rearing its’ head again.

It wasn’t a random hookup. She had no desire to sleep with anyone else. Just him. Since she’d met him, if she was being honest, she’d been longing to know what it’d feel like to fuck him. Then it had turned into something else as she got to know him, and she started daydreaming about how loving and gentle he’d be in bed. As she got to know the scars that covered his body, she dreamed of kissing them. She’d known for a long time that sleeping with Oliver would be different than anything else, because she wanted him more than she’d ever wanted anyone.

She shook her head slightly, her nose brushing against his. She knew he was hurt and angry, but all she felt was calm. She pressed her lips to his again, and at first, his were stiff in return. She let out a tiny sound of discontent, her arms raising to wrap around his neck, her tongue running across his lower lip. “I want to feel _you_ , Oliver.” She mumbled against his lips. “I’ve wanted to feel you ever since I met you, but I’ve only wanted you more since the last time you touched me.” She kissed him again, feeling his lips soften against hers, a low growl coming from his chest, this one sounding less angry and more _desperate_.

She sighed, her heart swelling with the same desperation. Her fingers found their way to his hair, her mouth hot against his. She inhaled sharply, pulling her lips back slightly, desperate to make him understand how she felt, though she wasn’t sure she even completely understood. “I don’t want stupid, mediocre, dispassionate sex with you, Oliver.” She said, resting her forehead to his. She glanced up at him.

“This isn’t a booty call. This isn’t a random hookup. This is me finally accepting that I cannot, no matter how hard I’ve tried, get you off of my mind. I don’t know what that means. I really don’t. But I know that I’ve never felt like this with anyone…and I don’t know what that means either, yet.” She sighed. “But I want to figure it out. And I want to do that by figuring it out _with_ you.”

Oliver groaned, leaning down to kiss her again, and it felt so much different than before, so much better. His lips were soft and passionate; eager, yet completely composed as they worked against hers. He kissed her for a while, barely moving, keeping his hands on her waist, but his mouth moved against hers, torturing her with every lick and bite.

She finally grumbled incoherently, pushing on him until his knees were against the bed and then she shoved him.

Felicity watched as he fell back, his arms instantly reaching up to her and she didn’t disagree, climbing on top of him and crushing her lips to his again. She rolled her hips relentlessly against his, and he cursed, moaned, and pulled her down to his lap harder, but never once made a move to take his or her clothes off.

Felicity pulled away slightly, glancing down at him and realizing that he wasn’t going to initiate anything that she didn’t start herself. Felicity smiled crookedly, straddling his lap and holding his gaze, his attention. She rocked her hips a few more times, and watched as his eyes rolled back slightly, but he fought it, keeping his gaze focused on her.

She started with his shirt, and he sat up to help her get it off. Then they worked to maneuver his pants and underwear off without needing her to climb off of him.

Felicity pulled the skirt of her red dress away, leaving only the thin material of her panties between her sex and Oliver’s erection. He sighed at the contact and she circled her hips slowly, _loving_ the way his head fell back and his hands gripped her ass, guiding her encouragingly. She felt something strangely erotic and empowering at having Oliver Queen’s muscled, lethal body beneath her, at her mercy, waiting for her next move. His hands ran over her thighs, up to her waist where her dress was scrunched. “You’re so fucking sexy.” He sighed.

She bit her lip, knowing that this was one of the reasons she could never feel this thrill with anyone else. He was honest when it was just them, like he couldn’t stop himself from mumbling things like that to her. She felt her walls tighten just at his words, at the thought that she was turning him on this much when she was still fully covered. “Take these off.” Felicity mumbled, pulling at her panties.

Oliver stared up at her for a moment before reaching between her legs with one hand and stroking the soaking material. A gasp escaped her mouth as his hand brushed against her sex, and then he ripped them away, tearing them easily with one hand. Felicity yelped in surprise, and Oliver grinned up at her. “Sorry,” he said, and she laughed, knowing full well that he’d meant to do it.

She was rubbing herself against him before he even had her underwear off, taking his cock between her wet folds and sliding herself along it. Oliver tossed the useless panties across the room, a thrill running through her when she realized that she wouldn’t have anything to put on later, “Guess I won’t be wearing underwear home.” She muttered. Felicity gripped him, sucking her lip into her mouth as she watched his eyes darken at her words. He quickened the pace of his fingers rubbing her, and her eyes rolled back, her hips gyrated against his, grinding down on his fingers.

Her hand slid up and down his shaft slowly, her thumb gliding to massage the tip of his cock as a small bead of cum formed. Felicity groaned, bringing her thumb to her mouth to taste him. Her eyes lazily opened and met his, and he cursed under his breath, his head falling back against his headboard. “God, Felicity, I could watch you do that all night.”

He reached up to grip her breasts over her dress, and she pulled the straps down, revealing her bra.

It was one of her favorites; white with a blue, sheer lace over it that formed a flower pattern. It pushed her breasts together and up perfectly. The material was bright between the dark room and the moonlight, making her skin glow in a way that seemed foreign even to her own eyes.

He shook his head slightly, and she wondered what he was thinking about. He had a look in his eyes that she’d only seen once, weeks ago, the last time they’d been in a position like this. It was like he couldn’t take his eyes off her, and it fueled her, made her feel more adored and confident than she’d ever felt with anyone.

The way he was looking at her made her want him even more. It made her heart race. She wanted to see him come because of her, fall apart beneath her as she rode him. Felicity moaned, knowing somewhere deep inside of her that she would never grow tired of him looking at her like that.

They had a common understanding, a respect, that allowed her to be with him like this without insecurity. He made her feel safe and adored, like there wasn’t one move she could make that would be wrong or that he wouldn’t like.

Oliver’s eyes grazed her body, her dress flowing over her thighs and his stomach. Her hot, wet sex rubbing against his erection must have felt good enough that he didn’t need a visual, because he made no attempts to take off her dress.

The straps of her red dress fell loosely off her shoulders, and he leaned forward to kiss the tops of her breasts, popping out of her bra.

She clutched his hair encouragingly before reaching back to unhook her bra and throw it across the room, eager as her hips increased their pace.

Felicity moaned loudly as he sucked one of her nipples into his mouth, arching to meet him as his tongue circled her sensitive areola. His hands gripped her back, holding her strongly against his face.

Oliver growled, the sound rumbling through his chest and hers, and she gasped, every inch of her skin on edge with his touch. He dug his fingers into her back, rearing his head back with a loud popping sound before he moved on to the other one and she gasped again, her hands clutching his hair and pulling him closer. “Oliver…”

With his mouth still on her breast, he looked up at her and she moaned his name again. Oliver pulled Felicity tightly to his chest, adjusting himself so that he was on his knees in the center of the bed, and she straddled him.

Felicity moaned in contentment, reaching between them to grip his rock hard cock. She pumped him a few times, her lips grazing his ear. She took his earlobe in her mouth, placing him at her entrance, and she held her breath, remembering what it had felt like the first time he’d filled her completely.

As he filled her again, her teeth sank into his earlobe and he let out a sound of pleasure and of pain. She sucked his lobe, soothing the pain her teeth had caused. “Oh my god,” she breathed, her breath and voice right on his ear, urging him on.

He kept his pace slow, like he wanted to build her up more. Felicity leaned back, her hands gripping his thighs behind her as she moaned, moving her hips quickly against his.

Oliver gripped her back in one hand and ran his other hand between her breasts and down her stomach. He lifted her dress to slip his hand inside and rub her clit. Felicity moaned, rearing her hips towards him and throwing her head back, her hair ticking his thighs hand on her back.

He stilled himself, “That’s it, Felicity. Ride me.” He growled.

Felicity moaned, letting herself go. Her hips moved with whatever rhythm her body craved, and she nearly lost all sense of her surroundings.

Oliver said something, a string of curses, but he sounded far away, her head feeling light as her orgasm built. His fingers never slowed as he rubbed her, and she had no idea what she looked like as she rode him wildly, and she didn’t care, just chasing the feeling of her orgasm building.

Just as she was about to come, Oliver’s hands clapping against her ass made her yelp, more in surprise than in pain, her eyes flying open. She felt like she was drunk, or high, or something; her head was light and her limbs didn’t feel like they belonged to her. She sighed, knowing that she’d never felt like that, and she hadn’t even come yet. She felt a shiver run through her at the anticipation.

He sat up, pulling her tight against his chest and moving across the bed effortlessly, “My legs are falling asleep.” He mumbled, sitting on the edge of the bed and adjusting her on his lap, never slipping out of her.

She stared down at him for a moment, trying to connect his words, “Huh?” She breathed, confused. And then she started laughing.

Oliver gripped her ass again, smiling up at her and moving her, guiding her movements, “What?” He asked teasingly.

“I was about to come.” Felicity’s head dropped to his shoulder as she tried to stop the laughter.

“You think it’s funny that my legs fell asleep in the middle of the most mind-blowing sex you’ve ever had?”

She giggled even more, and she felt his cock jerk at the sound of it, reacting.

His cock that was still inside of her.

Her laughter faded, and she picked her head up to look down at him. She watched him, wondering if she’d just felt what she thought she felt. Oliver just shrugged, moving his hands from her ass to run up her back, light as feathers. She shivered. “Your laugh always does that,” he confessed.

Felicity’s eyes widened, and her hips ground against his, the lightheartedness of the moment fading and the intense need to orgasm around him taking over. He laughed, clearly liking the responses he could get out of her. “You have the sexiest laugh,” he mumbled, his hands running through her hair, smoothing it over her back. “It doesn’t seem to matter where we are or what we’re doing…every time I hear it…I just…” he glanced down at the space where he was still inside of her, “feel that little jolt.”

Felicity moaned. The whole night was feeling so much deeper than she’d intended, but hadn’t that been what drew her to _his_ house in the first place?

That passion.

How it made her heart feel to hear him admit things like that.

How it felt to have him inside of her. _Him_. More than anything she’d felt before.

Her body began to slip back into that dreamy, only feeling state of mind, and she shook her head.

Felicity slid off of his lap, missing him inside of her immediately. He cocked his head to the side, but let her climb down and looking up at her where she stood in front of him.

Felicity let the dress fall down her arms and over her hips. Her bra was already somewhere on the other side of the room and her underwear was useless, leaving the dress the only fabric between them. She dropped the dress, watching as Oliver swallowed, his jaw tightening as he drank in her naked body, not hiding it as his eyes roamed over her body like he was trying to memorize it. “Come back here.” He whispered.

Felicity smirked, walking over to him. She pushed his legs open further, stepping between them. She dropped her lips to his, one hand smoothing over his chest while the other gripped his erection and stroked it, soaked from her juices and his.

She smiled against his lips, standing up straight and turning around before lowering herself onto him. She rubbed her ass against his cock, her back pressing to his chest. “Fuck, Felicity,” Oliver hissed, his hands instantly rising to grip her hips. He didn’t stop her and he didn’t move her; he just held on and let her do what she wanted.

Felicity grinned, dropping her head back to rest on his shoulder, “Fuck me, Oliver,” She whispered.

Oliver groaned, gripping himself in his hand and rubbing the tip of his cock between her folds until he reached her entrance. She gasped, lowering herself onto it with a deep, satisfied exhale. Oliver wrapped one arm around her waist, holding her steady. The other hand brushed her hair over her shoulder, his touch sending goosebumps over her body.

She was about to ask what he was waiting for, when he suddenly drove into her to the hilt. As he pushed into her, he bit her back softly at the same time, sending a shock through her and causing her to cry out.

“Oh my god,” she moaned as she moved above him, meeting his thrusts.

His lips and hand never left her back, driving her crazy as he shifted from running his fingers gently over her skin and pressing soft kisses to her spine to gripping her shoulder and sinking his teeth into her back; fucking her faster and harder.

She screamed his name, and his hand flew up to cover her mouth, her legs giving out from under her like they had the first time that he’d made her come; and he caught her again this time.

She felt it in her toes.

Her limbs went numb. Tingling.

She had no idea what she was saying or how loud she was, but Oliver’s hand on her mouth only intensified the orgasm that was already the strongest one she’d ever experienced.

Felicity rode her orgasm out, her walls tightening around him and her hips jerking. His quiet grunts made everything feel even better, made her feel like he was right there with her.

Felicity finally opened her eyes, blinking through the fogginess as she stared up at the ceiling confused. She could feel Oliver beneath her; her back pressed to his chest…she just wasn’t sure when he’d pulled her on top of him. She caught her breath, slumping against his shoulder, and he dropped his hand from her mouth. She turned her head to nuzzle her nose into his neck as she came down, a soft, satisfied sigh escaping her lips.

Oliver breathed out a laugh, “You might have woken my mom and sister…and the rest of the neighborhood.”

“Is that a complaint?”

“No,” he said, and she felt him shake his head, hearing the smile on his face as he nipped at her shoulder. “If you want my mom or Thea, or Mr. Watson from next door to see this, we can do it again…Anytime you want, Felicity.”

She scrunched her nose at the thought, but felt her stomach do a tiny flip at the invitation for sex whenever she wanted. She pressed an open-mouthed kiss to his neck, tasting the sheen of sweat covering his skin. She’d thought about tasting him every time she watched him workout. Felicity breathed, “I don’t think we’re done.” Wiggling her hips and making him groan, reminding him how hard he still was.

Felicity adjusted herself to face him, lying on top of him and kissing him. She moved her hips up and down his shaft, slipping easily in her release, right against her clit and bringing them both a new sensation of pleasure. She was already feeling the familiar heat of another orgasm, almost painful on the heels of that last one.

Oliver lifted his hands to grip her face, her hair falling over his shoulder, covering them in a curtain of blonde, strawberry smelling waves. She smiled softly at him as he planted his feet on the bed and lifted his hips to meet hers. He moved slowly, pulling out of her almost all of the way and pushing back into her again, filling her completely. She scraped her nails through his hair, biting down on his lower lip and listening to a soft curse escape his lips, barely audible as it rumbled through his chest. She smirked down at him, basking in her newfound button to push. Oliver liked lip biting. She logged it.

“I’ve never had an orgasm like that,” She whispered, her breath labored in the building tension. Oliver’s eyes flew to hers, either at her words or at the tone in her voice hinting that she was already climbing to another orgasm.

“Really?” He asked, disbelief in his voice, low with need.

She shook her head, “Never that intense,” she told him, swiveling her hips in a way that had his eyes rolling back.

“Oh, god,” Oliver moaned, his head falling back, his face angled at the ceiling.

Felicity ran her hands up his arms and held each side of his face, she pulled his head back to her, “Look at me,” she whispered.

As he opened his eyes, she could see a desire in them that ran a lot deeper than casual sex. There was emotion behind them, not just lust. “Tell me about it,” he whispered back.

Felicity bit her lip, thinking. She kept his face in her hands, “It just felt like a free-fall. I felt it in every part of my body, from my toes to the top of my head. It was mindless, from the moment I felt you inside of me. I’m still not sure my legs are going to work when I stand up.” She glanced down at him, feeling her walls tighten as their eyes met and she saw pure amazement behind his gorgeous blue eyes. “You make me feel so good, Oliver. I don’t want this to stop. I swore I saw stars. I’m going to need you to keep making me feel like that.” She whispered.

Oliver grunted, pushing into her harder. He met her gaze, that look in his eyes like he couldn’t believe he was doing this with her, and she could tell that he was about to come. “Tell me that you won’t shut me out again, Felicity.” He said. Despite how close he was to an orgasm, Felicity knew with an unspoken certainty that he needed the reassurance just as much as he needed to come.

She pressed her lips to his, rocking her hips into his, pulling him further inside. “I won’t shut you out again, Oliver. I promise.” she said against his mouth, deepening the kiss, sliding her tongue into his mouth as they moaned in unison.

His fingers slid between them, rubbing over her wet, sensitive clit fiercely. “I want to feel you come again, Felicity. Before I do. I want to make you see stars.”

Felicity cried out, amazed that just his words, telling her to come, had her on the edge.

And she was so ready to jump.

“Oh,” she choked out, watching his gorgeous, cocky smirk, knowing he already had her on the edge again. Felicity dropped her lips to his neck, keeping her chest tight against his as she rode him, “Oliver…” she groaned after another long moment. He tightened his arms around her back. “Oliver, I’m going to…I want you to…come, Oliver.” She breathed, demanding the same from him as he’d asked of her.

Oliver let out a low growl as she clamped down around him, her walls pulsating with her orgasm.

 “Oh! Felicity!” Oliver hissed, his muscles tensing as his hips jerked up into her, his thighs hitting hers.

“Yes, Oliver… _Yes_.” She moaned through her teeth. She reveled in the feeling of his hard muscles beneath her body, tensing with his orgasm. She loved the look on his face as she made him come; the way his eyes slammed shut and his mouth dropped open, her name falling from his lips again and again. His arms wound tightly around her back, keeping her chest secured to his as he came inside of her.

His eyes finally opened as he let out a deep breath, and she actually froze at the look on his face. An easy smile spread over his lips, a small chuckle escaping him. He looked _satisfied_. Because of her. And he looked happy. Peaceful. His pupils were huge, his expression more relaxed and stress-free than she’d ever seen him. “You’re remarkable, Felicity Smoak.” He sighed. His grip on her loosened, and he moved his hands to run them up and down her back.

Felicity smiled back, kissing his lips softly, savoring the moment. He brought his hands to her face to kiss her, then he smoothed her hair, running his fingers through it and tucking it behind her ears.

She listened to their heavy breaths mixing, both coming down from their mutual release.

Felicity rested her head on his shoulder, feeling his half hard-on still inside of her. She mindlessly grazed the scars on his chest and arm gently; trying to sooth wounds that she knew were long healed.

At least on the outside.

Oliver let out a deep breath before he hugged her tightly, his arms securing around her waist again as he sighed a breath of contentment. He kissed top of her head, “Thank you, Felicity. For coming over tonight.” Her eyes filled with unexpected tears at the way he clung to her, as if she actually gave him some kind of comfort and security.

Felicity felt her heart tighten, wanting to fix whatever was broken inside of this man.

She wasn’t sure she’d ever felt so safe and connected to a person. And if she hadn’t been so tired and satisfied, if she hadn’t felt so completely whole in that moment; it might have scared her. His arms were protective, promising…and she let herself believe it. At least for now.

She knew that Oliver was just as happy as she was to sit like that for a while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed! Comments and feedback are always appreciated:) Hit me up on Tumblr if you have any prompts, Olicity feels, or want to yell at me about a fic...I will love any and all of it:p Season 2: Oliver will be posted in about a week I'm hoping, after my vacation! And I'm super excited about it...think island sex;)


	3. Season Two: Oliver

It was after they came to find him on Lian-Yu.

Felicity and Diggle had jumped out of an airplane to get him. They’d trekked across the island looking for him. They’d risked their lives to reach him. And his heart had tightened when he’d seen them. The warm feelings had quickly faded and turned to terror when he realized that Felicity’s foot was on a landmine, and then relief when he had her safely beneath him, and finally guilt when he realized that her life was at risk because she came after him. Because of him. Again.

After he’d swung down to save her, he’d had a very hard time getting off of her when he finally had her close again.

"You shouldn't have come here," he'd whispered, glancing into the woods as he always did on the island, on edge as he always was in this place. Dig hadn't heard him, but he felt Felicity's fingers grip his shoulders soothingly.

"I needed to see you." She'd whispered back.

She had been underneath him, her leg rising to instinctively grip his waist. Looking down at her again, feeling her again, reminded him of everything he’d been missing about her. He wondered how he’d gone so long without running back to her as he smelled her familiar shampoo and felt her soft curves beneath him. The pain and panic he'd been feeling ever since he ran away from Starling City felt a little less daunting with her body tucked beneath his, hearing her whisper to him. It made him feel cared for in a way that he knew he didn't deserve. She made him feel safe, and it was a huge reason he'd returned to Lian-Yu in the first place. To run away from those deep feelings, to loathe himself without the hope she gave him that he was worth something.

He wasn't, and being on the island again allowed him to remember all of the things he'd done that proved he didn't deserve Felicity. He may have lost sight of it, but being away from her had cleared his mind and aligned his judgement again. She deserved more than his broken soul, but it was a nightly struggle to forget the way she made him feel, the way she opened up to him and trusted him. It was a can of worms that he'd kept the lid on tightly. 

Tommy came into his head, and he put on his tough exterior. He took them to the airplane and she’d yelled at him a bit, but he’d missed her so much that it only made him smile just to hear her, to see her.

And John, too.

He realized how much he’d missed his friends, and it reminded him of how much he didn’t _deserve_ friends like them.  

So he dug his heels in when the inevitable conversation about him returning home began. His resolve faltered when he found out that Queen Consolidated was at rock bottom, and his favorite blonde IT girl would lose her job if he didn't go back and help save the company. Even then though, he'd tried to find other solutions; Walter could manage it, Felicity was brilliant and could find a job at any company she wanted, the city didn't need him, he'd already failed it.

They’d fought with him for nearly an hour to convince him to come home, and eventually the selfish side of him won. He needed to be around them again. Felicity brought up Thea, and it was the final breaking in his fight. His heart twisted when Felicity cried, "What about Thea!? She's already lost you once Oliver, don't make her do it again."

He needed to see his sister. His eyes darted to Felicity, "How is she?"

Oliver had to fight a smile at the way Felicity spoke about her though; he wasn't sure if Felicity had reached out to his little sister, or if she was keeping tabs, but she was able to fill him in on nearly every detail of Thea's life since he left. 

He needed to get back to the real world and deal with the city and the people he’d failed to save, his family's failing company.

He didn’t want to see the destruction in the Glades. He didn’t want to hear the stories or see the faces of the victims. But he had to.

After spending another hour alone with his thoughts, he finally felt prepared to leave the island and return to everything he’d abandoned.

But then the plane didn’t start.

A few different ideas rattled in his head, and he knew a thing or two about fixing engines, but his knowledge was amateur compared to what Dig knew.

Diggle spent all afternoon trying to fix the plane, while Oliver assisted and Felicity sat safely on a nearby rock, biting her nails. As it got dark, she began fidgeting and mumbling to herself.

Dig finally sighed, looking at her apologetically and wiping the sweat from his face. “I’m sorry, Felicity. I can’t keep working on this in the dark. And even if I could get it fixed, It’d be safer to wait for daylight to get us out of here.”

Felicity paled, her hands dropping to her lap as she glanced around the darkening forest. Oliver leaned towards her, wanting to kneel in front of her and promise that she would be okay, but stopping himself. In his hesitation, Diggle did exactly that.

Oliver shifted as Dig knelt in front of Felicity and swore that they’d be fine; they’d sleep in Oliver’s shelter and everything would be fine.

“Dig,” she gulped, “I’ve never even been _camping_ before!”

John’s hands landed on each side of Felicity’s face, and Oliver watched curiously while their eyes met and Diggle took a deep breath. Felicity subconsciously followed his lead. “Oliver has plenty of firewood. Both of us can start a fire. I can get water and Oliver can hunt whatever the hell he’s been surviving off of since he left. We’ll eat, and by the time you’re full and warm, you can sleep, and then we’ll probably have the plane fixed before you even wake up and you'll be home in no time.”

Felicity nodded slowly, still seeming nervous as she bit her lip, but trusting her friend, “Okay. I guess if I have to be stuck on a creepy island all night, the two of you are probably my first picks to be stuck with.”

Oliver glanced away, trying to hide his smile at her words. He knew that she'd be perfectly safe, and if he had to pick someone else to protect her, John would be his first choice, too.

 “I’ll go hunt. Dig, the river is about half a mile North. It’s an easy walk, I’m sure Felicity would rather be with you.”

They both gave him strange looks and he cleared his throat. “I meant that she’d probably rather go get water with you than be alone…I have to hunt by myself; too many noises, footsteps, and it spooks the animals.”

John nodded, “Alright, we’ll meet you back at the plane.”

Oliver nodded once at John, waiting until his friend had passed him before he looked at Felicity, feeling even more guilt as he met her wide eyes. She was scared and stuck on a remote island for the night because of him. He wondered if he would ever stop disappointing her or making her life harder…and _when_ she’d finally have enough and tell him to stay out of her life. For a girl who’d never been camping, maybe a night sleeping in a wrecked plane listening to coyotes would be the last straw, and she’d finally blame him for her misfortune like she should.

He came back with three rabbits, happy that it’d be more than enough for the three of them and hopefully ease Felicity’s mind a little. His water bottle had been full before they’d arrived, and with Digg getting more, there’d be plenty of that too. He also had some berries and nuts he’d found the day before. Oliver forced himself to relax as he turned the rabbits over the fire; burning it bigger than he would have, trying to make Felicity feel safe. He was also hoping that a large fire would put her mind at ease. And it would also keep animals and bugs away.

He had pulled out the seats from the plane and put it in front of the fire. Sitting on the rock that he usually occupied, he focused on cooking and on listening for his friends. He wondered if he should have gone with them, but he knew that now that John was aware of the landmines, he’d know where they were and be able to navigate around them.

When the rabbits were done and Diggle and Felicity still weren’t back, Oliver began to worry. It was dark now, and the mines would be hard to see. They also hadn’t taken his flashlight, unless Digg had one. He paced in front of the fire, debating if he should stay and wait or go looking for them. Just as he sighed, preparing to grab his backpack and head out, he heard footsteps. John came out of the trees first, followed by Felicity.

Her arms were crossed and she walked with her head down. Dig nodded at him and handed him the water jug. And then he sat down on the chairs with a sigh. Oliver watched as Diggle closed his eyes, and then he looked to Felicity, who walked passed without looking up.

She went into the plane, and a long moment passed in complete silence. Oliver stared at John, waiting for an explanation, but Dig didn’t open his eyes.

He sighed, following Felicity into the plane both to check on her and to get the pot to boil their water. His eyes immediately flickered to find her as he walked through the door. She stood beside his cot, her eyes darting up at him as he entered, and then quickly glancing away.

He turned away from her to get the pot, “You okay?” He asked as he picked it up, trying to sound as casual as he could.

“Yeah,” she replied, her voice cracking. Oliver looked at her over his shoulder. Her eyes were wide as she tried to look anywhere but at him. Her face was also red, and was that mascara on her cheek? His eyes narrowed immediately, and he abandoned the pot to step closer. “Have you been crying?” He asked, not waiting for an answer before he took her face between his hands, analyzing her thoroughly.

She huffed out a laugh. “I’m fine.”

“Felicity…” he said, waiting for her to meet his eyes. “I promise you, everything’s going to be okay. You’ll be out of here in the morning. Dig and I would never let anything happen to you.”

Her eyes narrowed at him, “ _I’ll_ be out of here?”

Oliver shook his head slightly, “I will too…if that’s what you want.”

Felicity cocked her head to the side, “What?”

“I told you that I’d come back to Starling. But only if _you_ really want me to.”

“Why wouldn’t I want you to, Oliver?”

His hands were still on her face, but now it was his turn to avoid eye contact. “Because you’re stuck here for the night and its’ my fault?”

“Did you tamper with the engine?”

Oliver inhaled, “No.”

“Then how is it your fault?” She asked, her voice rising in anger. He wanted to make her feel comfortable and safe, not piss her off. Oliver didn’t respond, not knowing what to say and not wanting to make her even angrier. “Oliver.”

“You came here to get _me_ , didn’t you? It’s my fault you’re here. I left you.”

Felicity hesitated, and Oliver watched her eyes darken. Still holding her precious face in his hands, he chose not to take back what he'd said. He bit his lip, knowing that he meant it. His regret wasn't leaving the city; he needed the time away from it. He'd needed to reevaluate his mission. But leaving her without an explanation...that was his mistake. “I chose to come.” She said, nudging her head out of his grip.

He let her go, but gently ran his fingers over her jaw and down to her chin. “Why did you?” he asked gently. Felicity’s eyes lifted to meet his. He knew that it was a loaded question, but he wasn’t even completely sure what he was asking. Did he want her to say that she came because she loved him? Or because she needed him? He wasn’t sure.

 _Lines are blurring_ , he thought. _Had there ever really been any lines to begin with?_

“The city needs you.” She finally answered, her voice low. “Your family needs you." She sighed, "I’ve known where you were for a month now, but John thought that you needed more time after The Undertaking. It’s been killing me not to get on a plane or a boat and come get you. So, when Dig said that he thought it was time…I demanded to come.”

Oliver held her gaze, feeling a fire starting in his chest at her words. He had questions. He wanted to know how she knew he’d be on the island. He wanted to ask why it killed her. And he wanted to tell her that he’d missed her. “Why were you crying?” He asked again instead, his voice softer than he’d intended it to be. Her body reacted, her eyes closing as she sighed and leaned her face into his hands. She blew out a deep breath.

“I’ve been thinking about seeing you again ever since you left. I guess I just thought it would be different.”

Another addition to the list of ways that he disappointed her. “I’m sorry,” he said slowly, trying to find a way to explain how he felt about her. But he wasn't sure that he wanted her to know. If she knew, then she might think that she could be with him. And she couldn't. He was too broken. “I haven’t spoken-I haven’t been around people in a while...”

“And you’ve had all this time to sit here alone and blame yourself." She mumbled, her eyes full of pain, as if she felt it _for_ him. "I should have come sooner.” She whispered, her voice sad.

Diggle came through the door, and Felicity shoved away from him, crossing her arms and sniffling. “You feeling better?” He asked, his eyes darting between the two of them. Oliver wasn’t sure what he looked like, but he had no control over his emotion, and his face must have shown how affected he was by what she’d said. Something inside of him clicked. She wanted to save him. And even though he still didn't feel worthy of saving, part of him was hoping that someday he would be.

“Yeah,” Felicity answered. She brushed by him and headed for the fire.

After a couple of hours of eating, staring at the fire, catching up, and brainstorming about the engine, Diggle wanted to get some sleep before he had to wake up and try again.

Felicity made no move to go inside the shelter, just saying goodnight to him as he stood. Oliver sat still for a moment, watching her out of the corner of his eye, before sighing and moving to take Dig’s seat beside her. She was wrapped up in one of his blankets, the one he’d been sleeping with every night.  She didn’t move as he slowly sat beside her, just watched the fire silently.

So he did the same.

Eventually, after another hour of silence and when the sounds of John snoring in the plane pierced the air, she sighed. Throwing him one quick look, Felicity reached for his hand. He had his own gripped tightly together in his lap as his head leaned against the back of the chair. Felicity slipped her hand between his, and he closed his eyes, running his thumb against her palm.

She didn’t speak for a long time, but he was much happier to be sitting in front of that fire with her hand in his than he had been sitting there without it.

“It wasn’t your fault.” She finally whispered.

Oliver turned his head to look at her, but she kept her eyes forward. She almost looked nervous, biting her lip as she watched the flames. He was letting the fire die down, and letting her hand in his ease the pain he’d been feeling ever since The Undertaking. “What?” he asked.

Felicity looked at him.

 _Really_ looked at him.

Her eyes bore into his, like she was analyzing him and looking for something. But there was also something in her eyes that made him nervous, as if she already knew everything about him, and didn’t need to search for any secrets because she knew them all. “It wasn’t your fault that Tommy died.” She said finally, her voice faltering, but he could tell that she was trying to stand strong.

Oliver sighed, closing his eyes and letting his head fall back again. “Yes, it was.” He said with clarity. More than anything else since he'd landed on Lian-Yu, he thought about Tommy. And he knew that it was his fault, and he knew that not even Felicity would convince him otherwise. It was a burden that he was prepared to carry for the rest of his life.

“No. It wasn’t.” She said with just as much clarity.

“I’ve had the same memory of him circling my mind ever since I watched him die.” He confessed, “He called me a monster, Felicity. A murderer. My best friend died…hating me.”

He heard her inhale sharply, and then her hand was being pulled out of his. He held his own breath, imagining the disgusted look on her face, repulsed by him, and he didn’t want to open his eyes to see it.

Suddenly her body was on top of his; and his hands moved to make room for her, falling to her thighs. She gripped his face tightly. “Look at me.” She demanded, her voice much stronger than it had been before. Oliver opened his eyes slowly, staring right up at her, daring her to see him the way that he saw himself. The way that Tommy clearly had. “You. Are not. A _monster_.” She argued anyway.

He let out a sigh, not wanting to give himself the pleasure or luxury of being comforted. He didn’t deserve her words, and he definitely didn’t deserve her body over his while she said them.

“I should have died here.”

He hadn’t meant to say it. But he’d been thinking it. As soon as the words were out, he froze. And she kept her gaze locked on his. When she didn’t speak, he wondered if she’d even heard him. His voice had barely even been a whisper, and he hoped she hadn’t.

Felicity leaned forward, her eyes darting back and forth between his while he watched her curiously. After all of that… _what_ was she doing? He was too surprised, both by his own words and hers to do anything but watch her.

Her lips brushed against his so softly. He sighed immediately, feeling more alive than he had in months, giving him a new meaning to the word _spark_.

And then she kissed him. Her hands smoothed over his chest and she kissed him. Oliver stayed still, and when she pulled back, she gave him a small, sad smile. “I hope you see yourself the way that I see you…someday.” She whispered.

Oliver’s brows pushed together, remembering how he’d been hoping that she saw him for what he really was; a murderer, like Tommy had said. She must have seen his confusion. “You’re a hero, Oliver. And heroes don’t stop fighting. That’s why you survived this place. You made it out of here, out of hell…and you’re different for it. I’m so sorry that Tommy didn’t get to see that. I'm sorry that he didn't get to know you for the person you've become, and I’m sorry that you lost your friend. I wish that Tommy was still here because if he was, he would be _proud_ of you, Oliver. He was wrong, and I wish so badly that he was still here to tell you that. But it is _not_ your fault that he died. Tommy died because of Malcolm Merlyn. _Nothing_ that happened that night was _your_ fault.”

“I’m not a hero.” He choked out.

Felicity ran her hands over his ears and hair, begging him to listen to her. “You are.” His chin lifted at her words, praying that she meant what she said. “If you want to honor Tommy, then fight…you’re not going to make him proud by hiding here, torturing yourself, or by feeling sorry for yourself. Find a different way to right your father’s wrongs, find a different way to save the city. I believe in you, Oliver....so please, come back. Come _home_.”

Her words were slicing his heart and healing it all at once. All he could do was nod.

Felicity sat on his lap for another few minutes, but neither of them said a word. She didn’t take her eyes away from his, and just touched him. Running her hands over his face, his neck, his hair. And he took the blanket and put it back over her shoulders, wrapping her up in it.

The fire was only embers when he felt her shiver. He was so used to the cold here, he hadn’t even noticed. “We should go in,” he mumbled, not wanting to give up the feeling of her body pressed to his, not after he’d gone without it for so long.

She bit her lip. “Yeah.”

Oliver had a hard time falling asleep knowing that Felicity was a few feet away, sleeping on his cot. With his pillow. And his blanket. He loved that she was wrapped up in his things; warm and comfortable and safe. He finally fell asleep thinking about it, only to wake up a few hours later.

He knew that it was about 3:00am. He’d spent enough time analyzing the sky and the way it casted shadows to be able to tell the time of night. It was still dark. So dark that most people wouldn’t know what time it was, but he could tell the difference in the way the shadows hit the wall of the plane. It was subtle, but he’d grown accustomed to it after waking up in the middle of the night so frequently over the years he’d spent here.

He could hear John and Felicity’s breathing, and he felt so tired. Oliver stood up, feeling the bite of the chill in the air as he emerged from his blankets. Glancing at Felicity, he noted her pink nose and slight shiver. He added another log to the small fire on the ground, then took his jacket out of his bag and laid it over her.

With a sigh, he wrapped his own blanket around himself and dug out the picture.

He’d taken it of her one night in the warehouse. He wasn’t sure what compelled him to take it, to risk being _caught_ taking it…but she’d been sitting at her computer, in the chair that had become hers; focused on the screen with a red pen in her mouth. And it had made him feel something. He’d thought that he wanted to have that image of her forever, which lead him to pull out his phone. It wasn’t particularly his proudest moment, but the picture of her helped him sometimes. He’d printed it out and kept it with him before he left, hoping that it could provide him more comfort.

“Where did you…”

Oliver froze, dropping the picture from his hands. He spun around to see Felicity, standing there bundled up in his jacket. It swallowed her, zipped up to her chin. She looked adorable.

And then she was bending over to pick up the photo. Oliver clenched his jaw as her eyes scanned it and then widened, looking up at him. He waited, but she just smirked. And he let out a breath. “You keep this with you?” He nodded once. “I remember this night.” She mumbled, looking back down at the picture. “I’m glad that it’s actually not a terrible picture…considering I didn’t know you’d taken it.”

He huffed, “I’m sorry. I shouldn't have taken it. You just...I like the look on your face when you're so focused on being a badass hacker, hunting people down like that. You get this little crease on your forehead, between your eyebrows and I just wanted to make sure I never forgot that look, or how you chew on your pen when you're really thinking, and I know you must have a lead because sometimes you talk to yourself and I always try to hear what you're saying but you somehow manage to talk faster than usual...I'm sorry." _Apparently being outed as a creep makes me babble like she does._

Felicity just shrugged, and if he wasn’t mistaken, it seemed like she _liked_ it.

Oliver watched her.

“Do you want to go for a walk?” She asked.

“A walk?” He asked. She nodded, and he tucked the picture safely back into his pocket, watching as she glanced away and fought a smile. Damn, if that wasn't the cutest thing he'd ever seen... “Okay.”

Felicity smiled, slipping her hand into his. He couldn’t stop the grin he gave back to her.

Oliver glanced at her as they walked, watching her hair as it swayed in the moonlight beside him, and he suddenly felt a crushing weight that he’d been missing out on her for months. He’d deprived himself of her.

Something had changed when he saw her here, and he didn't want to feel deprived anymore. He wanted to do whatever it was that he needed to do to deserve Felicity Smoak. He wanted to make her happy. He wanted to be the kind of man that she could count on. He didn’t want to sit on his thumbs while she gave her love to some other guy. Even if someone else deserved her more, he realized that he didn’t care. He needed to try to be everything she saw in him that was good. 

He just had to figure out how to do all of that.

 

“Wow,” Felicity’s soft voice broke through his thoughts. And she stopped, tugging his hand to a halt. Oliver glanced down at her, and she raised an eyebrow. “Some deep thoughts going on in that head of yours, huh?”

“Yeah,” he sighed, “I guess so.”

“You’re not changing your mind about anything, are you?” She asked. Oliver hesitated, knowing that she was referring to his return to Starling.

“I’m going to come home. And I’m going to make Tommy proud. And I’m going to make _you_ proud.” He shook his head slightly, “I want to make you proud, Felicity.”

Felicity bit her lip, “You do.”

He stepped closer, watching as she stared up at him, her eyes widening and her eyes falling to his lips as she licked her own. His breath caught. “I’ve missed you.” He said lowly.

Felicity nodded slowly, looking at him like she wasn’t sure what he would do. “I missed you, too.” She whispered.

Oliver’s hands fell to her waist, and he gently stepped closer. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her, and now all he wanted was to touch her.

Desire swelled his heart as Felicity pushed up onto her toes to reach him, her hands sliding up to his neck. Gently, carefully, still giving her time to run like he always did, he kissed her. And she kissed him back, holding onto him like _he_ would run again.

Her fingers knotted into his hair, and he dug his into her hips, pulling her against him as tightly as he could.

Using his leverage, he lifted her, dragging her up his body so he didn’t have to bend down to keep kissing her. He carried her until he found a nearby tree, and then he pressed her back into it, listening to the soft moan escaping her mouth. Her lips were hot against his, like she’d been starving for him as much as he had for her. But he didn’t want to push this, didn’t want to move too fast.

He could tell that she was getting antsy, that she needed more. Oliver stared up at her for another moment, taking in her beauty as her soft blonde hair shifted with her movements, falling over her face and onto his shoulders.

Her eyes lolled open to meet his, and her eyes were like an addiction that he’d deprived himself of. The way she looked at him when she was like this…when she wanted him…he knew it had never, and would never, compare to anyone else.

He didn’t know what it was exactly that he felt for her. But it was strong.

_I know that I care about her more than I’ve ever cared about anyone._

_I love her._

Oliver clenched his jaw as the realization struck him. Felicity’s head tilted down to look at him, her eyes questioning. He swallowed, unable to drop his gaze from hers.

He had to choke back the knot in his throat when her curious eyes widened, as if she knew exactly what he was thinking about her. She could read him so well, it was like he'd said it out loud. She didn’t look away either though. She just watched him in disbelief, her hands rising on their own accord to gently touch his face. Her fingertips smoothed over the rough stubble on his face, as if she was telling him that she loved him too.

He actually felt whole, and his heart swelled even more when he watched a small, shy smile cross her face and her eyes soften.

 _Peace_ , he thought as he closed his eyes. He knew that she’d read his expression, probably perfectly.

She _knew_.

She knew how deeply he felt about her, that he loved her. And she didn’t run away screaming like he’d always thought she would. She didn’t even blink. “Felicity…” he mumbled, hiding his face in her throat and biting his lip, biting back the emotions stirring inside of him. He wanted to say it out loud so badly. Even if she knew it and maybe felt it back, he wanted her to hear it too. But his breath was stuck in his throat, so many emotions lodging themselves in his chest that he couldn't speak. Her hands felt amazing on his body, her lips tasted sweet, and he was struck again at how long he'd gone without feeling this.

His feelings for her had been there even before the first time they'd had sex in her living room, and he'd somehow pushed them down ever since. But after months without her, it was hard to deny how much he'd missed her, and what it meant. 

He was in love with Felicity.

The air suddenly felt different.

He pulled back to look up at her, watching as she smiled at him, assuring him that the frenzy of emotions stirring through him were okay. Her hand skimmed over his cheek, his jaw, slowly, leaving a heated trail down his face. And she was smiling at him like she couldn’t stop.

Like she was happy.

The wind picked up softly, and Felicity closed her eyes, biting her lip and dropping her head back against the tree. The breeze blew her curls, and Oliver glanced down at her hardening nipples. He wasn’t sure if she’d pulled the jacket open or if he did during that make-out session, but her nipples were begging him to touch them. Right through her shirt.

He groaned, closing his eyes and trying to think straight again. But she rocked back, ripping his jacket off of her and throwing it to the ground. “Felicity…” he started.

Her eyes snapped up to his, a warning, a glare with so much fire…telling him so much. He’d tried to put the brakes on them before, and she was tired of it.

As if to confirm that, the next thing he knew she was pulling her t-shirt off, exposing her bare breasts to the cool air. Oliver groaned, rocking his hips up to hers, rubbing his cock against her center and she responded with her own moan.

He quickly took one nipple into his mouth, sucking and licking it, warming it as he listened to her gorgeous little moans. His hands gripped her hips tighter, and he gave his attention to her other breast, looking up at her and getting a view of her mouth; dropped open, her hands coming to his head and keeping his lips on her nipple.

She wiggled against him, and it took him a moment to realize that she was trying to get down. He forced himself to take his mouth away from her breast, watching as the wet nub hardened even more at the fresh cold air.

Once he reluctantly set her feet on the ground, Felicity immediately dropped to her knees and began working on his pants button.

Oliver’s hands reached down to stop her, but she glared up at him one more time, "I want to." She said.

Oliver groaned again, his head falling back as she undressed him. "Are you sure? Because it's kind of my favorite, and I'm losing the power to object any more." He moved his hands to her face. She smiled when his fingers grazed her jaw, but didn't answer.

And then she shoved him, and he let out a huff as his back fell against the tree he'd just had her pinned to. She pulled his pants down quickly, like she was trying to do it before he could argue. He wasn't the biggest fan of Felicity on her knees in the dirt, torn between wanting to be a respectful gentleman who fucked her right, and having the pleasure of feeling her lips around him. But she’d just taken control, and he was starting to learn that fighting her was pointless. The fact that she wanted to do it combined with their little make-out against the tree had him rock hard already.

His cock sprang free, hardening as she stared at it, licking her lips.

He held his breath when her nails dragged up his legs, settling on his thighs and digging in, holding him against her. She leaned forward, her beautiful lips kissing the head of his erection, and he felt pre-cum seep out of him; he’d never felt so ready for someone, feeling the anticipation of what her mouth around him would feel like.

And then she tasted him, only using her tongue, licking the cum from his cock slowly, swirling her tongue over him. Oliver hissed, tightening his fists in her hair before thinking better of it and loosening his grip. Felicity shook her head, looking up at him as her lips pressed gently against him again, rubbing him back and forth. Her hands moved from his thighs to cover his hands, and she squeezed, telling him to grip her hair harder. “Fuck, Felicity!” He groaned, because as soon as he did, she took him into her mouth.

Oliver forced himself to stand still, to fight the urge to rock his hips into her mouth. He gently pulled her hair out of her tight ponytail, brushing the wild strands away from her face where he could hold onto it. She stared up at him, her lips wrapped around the head of his cock, and he cursed. Felicity smirked, clearly enjoying the effect she had on him.

Felicity was exploring him, tasting him, and driving him absolutely crazy.

She dug her fingers back into his legs. And then she slid her lips over him slowly. Taking him in as far as she dared and back out, her teeth sliding softly against him, her tongue playing with the head of his cock. “ _Oh_ ,” he sighed, “My god.”

Of course her lips around him felt better than any girl before. It shouldn’t have surprised him, since being inside of her had the same effect. But Felicity was just so _good_. In his fantasies, he’d always imagined her to be shy, maybe rambling…sweet. But the eyes staring up at him were far from shy and sweet. They were dripping in desire, confident in the things that she knew she was doing to him, making him feel. His eyes rolled back as her name stumbled out of his mouth, nothing but adoration and praises in his voice.

Felicity moved her hand to grip him, stroking his erection as she sucked, her eyes closing. Oliver groaned, forcing his eyes back open so he could see her as his pleasure increased and he shivered. Instinctively, he moved his hips into her once, and then stilled. But she moaned, her voice _vibrating_ against him, and he did it again.

He pushed her hair away from her face where it fell with her movements, wanting to watch her. He never wanted to forget that sight. “Oh, Felicity,” he felt a familiar tingling at the bottom of his spine. “Felicity, stop." He said, feeling like a fifteen year old with no control of his orgasms again. "I'm so close, I want to be inside you,” he said, trying to step back. But she dug her nails into his thigh harder to keep him in place, her other hand latching onto his fingers where he held her face. 

"Felicity...I'm going to- _fuck_ -” Oliver groaned. “Oh god,”  He gripped her hair tightly and rocked his hips into her mouth, feeling her hum again and pushing him over the edge. As he lost control, she sucked harder, faster, meeting his hips. “Felicity!” He cried, his cock throbbing as he came in her mouth. His eyes slammed shut, still seeing her face as he came. And then he saw stars when Felicity didn’t slow her movements, taking all of him in her mouth. She just kept _sucking_ , pumping him dry with her lips, dragging her teeth gently along his shaft and swallowing, making his orgasm even more intense and he let out one more sharp cry.

As he came down, he felt Felicity’s hands climbing up his chest, and he sighed in pure contentment. He opened his eyes, finding Felicity’s blue ones looking into his. “Damn, woman,” he smiled crookedly at her. And his shy girl was back as she glanced away, like she was unsure that what she’d done wasn’t just the fucking hottest thing he'd ever been lucky enough to experience.

She licked her lips, her index finger touching the corner of her mouth. He grabbed her jaw, bringing her mouth to his. His tongue ran against her bottom lip, and she opened for him. Oliver sighed, tasting himself, “Your turn.” He mumbled.

In one, swift movement, he wrapped one of his legs around both of hers, moving them out from under her and bringing her gently to the ground. Felicity blinked up at him as he settled between her legs. He unbuttoned her pants and slipped his hand inside, growling when he discovered how wet she was. Her panties were soaked, and he rubbed her sensitive clit in small, slow circles. She moaned loudly. She was so ready to be touched.

Oliver let out another low grumble. “Let me return the favor.” He said, his voice steady but his eyes asking. She nodded quickly, and he slid down her body.

Felicity lifted herself onto her elbows to watch him, and he looked up at her, smirking at the leaves in her hair and the wild, aroused look in her eyes. He took his sweet time building her up, devoting some time to sucking, licking and biting each of her nipples. He loved the way she gasped when he gently nipped at her breasts, and how she let out a beautiful cry when he pulled one into his mouth and sucked as hard as could, leaving reminders on her body of what he was doing to her.

He kissed from her breasts, down her stomach. Reaching her mound and kissing her there too. And then in one quick movement, he tossed her legs over his shoulders and pulled her center to his mouth. She yelped. Oliver glanced up at her, watching her reaction. She sucked her bottom lip into her mouth as she stared down at him, nodding again. She was eager for him, and it was turning him on. _Fuck, she's perfect._

He wanted to learn what she liked, how she reacted, where to touch her to have her screaming his name and where to touch her to feel her thighs shaking around his face. Keeping his eyes on her, he slipped his tongue between her folds, tasting her arousal, the sweetness that he’d caused. He could feel it dripping from his chin already. And he realized that he had her so close to the edge, he would barely have to touch her and she'd be coming around his lips.

Felicity’s fists grabbed handfuls of leaves, her teeth catching her lip, but she still watched him. "You even _taste_ like perfection." He growled out. 

Felicity smiled, letting out a breathless, nervous laugh that had his cock hardening. He'd thought about that laugh often and what it never failed to do to him. Oliver smiled back at her again before licking her from her entrance to her clit. She cried out when his tongue circled her sensitive nub. He opened his mouth, sucking her, licking her, feeling himself growing hard again already thanks to the months in isolation and her arousing noises.

He pushed his tongue inside of her, and she laid back, crying out loudly and reaching to grab his head. She held him tightly, holding his head against her.

He aimed to please, pushing his tongue inside. He used his fingers to rub her clit as his tongue moved inside of her. “ _Oh_ ,” she sighed, “yes.” As her orgasm built, she breathed out his name over and over, and he groaned, his voice rumbling around her and sending extra pleasure to her core. She bucked up against him, and he folded his hands together over her stomach, keeping her flat on the ground while he continued to eat her out.

He didn’t slow his tongue or his fingers, chasing her orgasm to the end with her.

As she fell over the edge, Oliver rushed up her body. He rubbed his erection from her entrance to her clit, just like he’d done with his tongue. Then he pushed himself into her slightly, just the head of his erection, and moaned loudly at how good it felt. He loved feeling how tight she was.

At the sensation, she screamed his name. Her walls pulsed around him, pulling him in deeper as she cried out. Her body shook beneath him, her legs and arms flying up to wrap around him. He buried his face in her neck, pressing his lips against the frantic pulse of her heartbeat. He grunted, making sure to remember how she reacted to that move in the future. He'd just wanted to feel her come around him, but he got just as much pleasure in how it seemed to make her feel, too.

" _Felicity_ ," he sighed, his voice thick with the love he could now identify. Making her orgasm was becoming an addiction.

Oliver watched her face as she came down. He smiled down at her, knowing that it must have been an amazing orgasm because she was struggling to open her eyes and catch her breath. "You okay?" He asked, pressing gentle kisses to her cheek and keeping himself perfectly still inside of her. It was a hard task, since he could still feel her walls pulsating around him.

As soon as her eyes opened and met his, she grabbed his waist and pulled, hauling him inside of her to the hilt.

They both cried out in unison, in mutual pleasure and comfort. Because something about all of it felt right, and neither of them wanted to stop.

"Do you think it will ever stop feeling this good?" She whispered.

"Between me and you?" he hesitated, brushing her hair back and thrusting into her again, "Not a chance."

Felicity lifted her head to kiss him. Her lips were soft and slow, all of the urgency had faded with that one look, that one quiet conversation. He put more weight into the idea that she knew how he felt, even if he hadn’t said it out loud. Yet.


	4. Season Two: Felicity

It was while they were in Russia.

Felicity was pacing her room, a million thoughts going through her mind. John was going into a prison in a foreign country to save Lyla. He didn’t even seem nervous about the plan, but she was a wreck. She stopped her pacing to pull out her computer. It didn’t take long to hack into the prison’s records and pull files for the current criminals behind those bars. Not one of them was in there for anything less than murder. Some of them multiple murders. Some of them were terrorists, rapists, and monsters. They were all guilty for taking at least one person’s life, though. This wasn’t just prison. It was a confinement for the worst killers in the country.

Despite what Oliver thought of himself, she knew that Oliver Queen was not a monster. And he did not belong in that place any more than John or Lyla did.

Felicity cursed, beginning background checks on the guards. Most of them were not much better than the prisoners. Shockingly, the facility was some kind of punishment for crooked law enforcement. The guards who were sent there were guilty of petty crimes, bargaining with prisoners and accepting bribes. She stood up, wanting Oliver to at least know what he and John were walking into. Those guards wouldn’t be much of a help to him if he got into trouble, and she hoped to convince him that they could somehow find another way to extract Lyla.

Stepping from foot to foot, she waited impatiently while the files printed, glaring at the clock. She threw her jacket and shoes on, pulling the pages from the printer and heading for the door.

As she walked down the hall, she tried to get the papers in any kind of order, considering she’d have to debrief Oliver on Russia’s finest during the drive to get Diggle.

Just as she lifted her hand to knock, Oliver swung the door open. “Hi,” she breathed, still unable to look at him without fighting a smile. She'd tried to seem unaffected by him, but she wasn't sure how convincing she was. 

“Hi.”

“It’s time. You ready?”

Oliver let out a breath, glancing at his feet, “Yeah,” he breathed.

Oliver opened his mouth to say something else, and Felicity opened her mouth to begin her description of the men at the prison, but both of them were interrupted by Isabel Rochev walking out of his room…

“Think she can take the night off, don’t you?” Isabel teased, glancing at Felicity as she passed, and then to Oliver over her shoulder.

Flustered was an understatement. Felicity felt her stomach form into knots at the same time that she felt her heart dropping to the floor and vomit rising in her throat. She closed her eyes, feeling like looking at him would make her sick.

She wasn’t sure what to think, she just knew it hurt.

Staring at the back of Isabel’s head in confusion and to try to hide from Oliver was pointless. She knew that he could read her face like an open book. “Uh,”

“Felicity…”

She let out a breath, blinking back tears and trying to offer him a contrived smile. Compartmentalizing was never really a strength of hers, but lives were on the line, one of them being his. Shaking her head, she reminded herself to focus on getting John and Lyla home safe. They didn’t have time to fight. She didn’t have time to break down. “What happens in Russia stays in Russia,” she said instead, blinking back tears that she prayed he didn't notice..

Looking at him in that moment literally made her want to punch something. So she turned around. “Even if it makes no sense whatsoever.” She muttered, feeling his gaze on the back of her head.

As she walked away, she heard his door close and his footsteps following behind her. She hurried, unsure if he was going to try to catch up to her. She couldn't even look at him again, let alone fake another smile like it didn't hurt to see Isabel coming out of his room.

Felicity sat in the car, staring out of the window and ignoring Oliver’s Russian friend. She took deep breaths, trying to force herself to calm down. Just as she thought it was working, Oliver walked to the car and swung the door open, climbing into the backseat.

Rage and hurt filled her again, and she threw the files onto his lap with unnecessary force before he could even close the door. His eyes darted up to her, but she glared at the windshield as if it had caused her pain. “Felicity…” he said, his voice just as soft and loving as it had been many times before.

She raised her hand without looking at him, “Focus on the files, Oliver. If I’m the only one who’s going to take this seriously, then the least you can do is read.”

Anatoli let out a whistle and Oliver huffed, “I am taking this seriously.”

“Really?” She spun around to pin him with so much pent up fire that he leaned back. “Because one of my best friends needs our help saving the woman he is clearly in love with, and while I was doing this research, you were fucking Isabel Rochev!” Her voice rose in anger as she spoke, too loud for the confines of the car, but it broke when she said her name. Her face fell, and she turned her head towards the window so he couldn't see the heartbreak written all over her face.

Oliver sighed, “I did _not_ fuck her, Felicity.”

She rolled her eyes, adjusting the heat on the panels as Anatoli drove; trying to find something to do with her hands that didn’t involve gouging Oliver's eyes out with her fingernails. “Are you cold, cookie?” Anatoli asked in his thick accent. He pulled the hat from his head and shoved it onto her head, pushing it down over her ears.

“Felicity,” Oliver said, his voice assertive. When she ignored him, she felt his lips at her hair. “What the hell, Felicity? _You_ gave up on _me_ , and now you’re pissed that I’m trying to move on?”

“With _her_!?” She shrieked, crossing her arms over her chest. “Fucking your business partner is not _moving_ _on_ , Oliver. And I’m done talking about it.”

“I _didn't_ fuck her. But you’re right,” He grumbled into her ear. “I wasn’t trying to move on. I was trying to forget. And I couldn’t.” Felicity slowly turned around to meet his eyes. She still felt angry as all hell, but his voice was doing familiar, wonderful things to her insides. “I didn’t sleep with her, baby.” He whispered. Her mouth opened slightly at _baby_. It’d been a while since he called her that, since he talked to her like that.

“I kissed her, but that was it. I wanted to be over you, because I thought that you were over me. I thought you didn't care about me anymore...but when I saw your face…why are you mad, Felicity?”

Felicity blinked, shaking her head. She knew that he was somewhat right. She’d ended whatever it was that they’d been doing.

 _That_ conversation ran through her head.

_She’d just gotten done sucking him off where he sat in her chair. She was on her knees in front of him after a particularly tough night; delighted to be the one who Oliver touched and kissed after a mission. Something had felt so good about being able to be together after nights like that. Instead of having to go home and wonder if he was okay, she got to make sure that he was. It became a familiar routine, one where they spent most of their time together; from working at QC to Arrow business to their personal life. She spent so much time with him, yet she missed him when he had a morning meeting or a late night. She smiled up at him as he picked his head up from the back of her chair. He still wore his green leather jacket, his pants pulled down and his fingers knotted in her hair._

_She'd been jittery since he called to say he was on his way back. She'd been disappointed when John walked in with him. And she'd been patient enough to wait until their partner left before she shoved Oliver into her chair and shoved his pants down._

_Oliver gently tugged until she plopped into his lap, kissing him and letting him taste himself, and he groaned. Felicity adjusted his pants back into place, snapping the button of his leathers and giving his cock a friendly pat over the material._

_Oliver let out a breath, “I’m sorry.”_

_She cocked her head to the side, “Sorry? For what?” She asked, clasping her hands behind his neck and peppering his face with kisses._

_“I didn’t mean for it to happen.” He said,  “I tried so hard not to. I knew it would scare you, so I fought so hard against it, but I don’t think I can do it anymore.”_

_“Okay, you’re freaking me out. What are you talking about?”_

_“I love you, Felicity.”_

_“Oliver.”_

_“I’m sorry.”_

_She shook her head, glancing at him with tears in her eyes. “Why did you have to ruin this?”_

_He sighed, pulling her tightly against him. “It’s not ruined. I know that you want to be with me as much as I want to be with you.”_

_“I like the way things are!”_

_“Felicity,” he breathed, pressing his lips together. “You love me too,” he said softly, unsure. His eyes begged her to say it. There had been so many moments between them when she’d felt it. But every time it scared the shit out of her and she shoved it to the back of her mind. She wasn't ready to be in love with him. She didn't like change. She liked what they were doing. Love changed things. She had a warped view of love, and she wanted to keep all of that far away from Oliver. Expressing their love without actually saying it was perfect. She could feel it, she craved it, but she didn't have to think about it, admit it, or make any promises and plans about forever that would leave them resenting each other in the end._

_She stared into his eyes for a long moment before shaking her head gently. Maybe she did love him. But the idea of changing what they were doing, taking the next step, was too much for her to think about. It was too soon. “I liked the way things were.” She whispered, pulling away from him._

_Oliver’s face broke, panic written all over it. “Wait,” he said, holding onto her tightly. “Don’t go.” He said, desperate. “It doesn’t have to change, Felicity. We can keep doing what we’re doing and worry about the rest later. I’m fine with that. I’m fine with waiting until you’re ready. Nothing has to change.”_

_“You said it, Oliver! Everything’s changed now.”_

_He shook his head, gripping her hips, “I take it back then.” He said, his eyes begging her not to walk away._

_She huffed out a humorless laugh, wiggling out of his grip and standing up, looking for her shirt. “You can’t take it back.” She said, fighting tears and refusing to look at him. “We have to stop this before we ruin each other.”_

_“Too late for that.” He said. Felicity’s eyes darted to his, seeing the absolute heartbreak in them, and quickly looking away. She felt a painful weight on her chest, but she knew that losing him later rather than now would end in a much worse heartbreak._

Does it even matter? _She wondered, knowing that she may already be in love with him, in too deep to walk away. But she had to try. He’d said it out loud. He’d said that word that meant they had to talk about the future, and plans, and what they wanted. Love meant relationships and promises, and those things always ended. She didn't want her life not to include Oliver, and she was afraid that if they hurt each other badly enough, they'd end up like her parents. Donna and Noah couldn't even be in a room together without screaming at each other, but they'd loved each other once. She didn't ever want to feel that way about Oliver. Walking away now was safer._

_Even if every single one of her fantasies about her future involved Oliver, she wasn’t ready to reach for them. She didn’t want her life to change. She just wanted to keep saving the city and screwing Oliver Queen. Simple. Easy. Fun._

_Once she was dressed, she looked over her shoulder at Oliver before escaping to the stairs._

_He still sat in her chair, but his head was in his hands. Felicity took a step towards him, panic rising in her throat because despite what she’d just told him, things were changing anyway. Wouldn’t it be better to change with him than to let him go? She watched him for another moment, realizing that if she took it back, if she agreed to be with him, that she’d only hurt him worse than she was in that moment._

_With a heavy heart, she walked out of the bunker._

_They skirted around each other for a month. She tried to go back to being friends...or more like acquaintances. Oliver had a much better poker face, and she became convinced that he hated her for the choice she made. She hated herself for it too. But she didn't even know where to start in trying to take it back. So she lived with it. And then they left for Russia._

And now she was confused.

“You’re right, Oliver.” She said lowly, “You don’t owe me anything.”

Oliver let out a breath, “That’s not what I’m saying, Felicity. Why were you so angry that Isabel was in my room?”

She stared at him, incredulous. “Are you really asking me that?”

“Considering I told you that I loved you and you broke up with me, yes. I’m really asking you that.”

“We weren’t actually together, Oliver. We were having sex. We were sleeping together, not dating. And you blindsided me.”

“Why were you mad, Felicity?”

"That you were going to sleep with someone like Isabel to get over me? I don't know! How selfish of me to be upset!"

"You said that we would ruin each other...and then you left like it meant nothing to you."

His eyes were angry as she met his gaze, wondering if that's really how it had looked to him. Leaving that night had been torturous, and she'd spent every night after work crying on her floor. She thought he could see through her, but either she was a better actress than she'd thought, or he had deluded himself into believing that she didn't care. Oliver raised an eyebrow, "So why, as someone who walked away from me, would it upset you what I do with other women?"

“Because I love you, too!” She yelled, her voice making him jump after their whispered exchanges.

His eyes darkened. “You do.” It wasn’t inquisitive or arrogant. It was disbelief. Felicity bit her lip and nodded. The absence of his arms around her and the genuine smile that he reserved for their time together made her realize it. The time spent crying over him made her realize it. She knew she wouldn't feel so broken if she didn't love him. Missing him forced her to admit it to herself. But she hadn't built up the courage to admit it to him.

It only took her a few days after she’d walked away from him to realize her mistake. It only took a few days of him being cold to her for her to realize that her heart ached because she loved him. She had for a while, maybe even before they’d slept together.

But her pride and her fear of embarrassment and rejection prevented her from admitting her regret to Oliver. After she’d left him with his head in his hands, he’d treated her with indifference. She knew she hurt him, but she wasn’t sure that begging for forgiveness would result in anything other than him telling her to fuck off.

Oliver leaned towards her, “You love me?”

“Yes,” She sighed.

Oliver stared at her, his eyes shifting from disbelief, to confusion, to anger, to something _else_ in a matter of seconds. He stared back at her and she swore she heard him growl. “This was not the best moment to let me know, Felicity.”

She glared at him, seeing the fire in his eyes. It was tainted with resentment, but it also held a promise. If they were alone…

“Fuck it,” Oliver breathed, leaning towards her.

Felicity caught his chin in her hand before his lips could touch hers. “You still have her lipstick on you, Oliver.”

Oliver jerked out of her grip, wiping his mouth in disgust. He pressed his hands on his pants and looked up at her. She did her best to keep her eyes from showing any emotion. And he looked away. Both of them had made mistakes, but she couldn’t give up the hope that they stood a chance to come back from it. Giving up hope for that would break her. He didn’t say another word, and turned to stare out his window. She did the same.

Felicity spent the rest of the trip making sure that there was always something to do. She made sure that they never found themselves alone, because despite how angry they were with each other, their mission in Russia took priority to the conversation that they needed to have, and she knew that if they ended up alone, they would skip over the conversation part.

So they loved each other. It was out there. It was on the table, but they had to talk. She was thankful for the tasks she had in front of her. They made a good distraction.

That was until the awkward plane back to Starling. She put her earphones in and tried to relax, but being in a confined space with Oliver and Isabel was hard.

She felt a hand on her knee, and she opened her eyes to look up at John. She smiled immediately, taking the buds from her ears. “Hey,” she said. Her eyes glanced at Oliver instinctively, seeing him curled up and pretending that he was asleep. “How’s Lyla?”

John chuckled, “She’s tough,” he said, glancing at her. “Strongest woman I know.”

Felicity nodded, “Me too, I think.” She only knew Lyla from the things they’d experienced in Russia and the records she’d hacked into, but Lyla seemed like a perfect fit for John. “Do you think you guys will try again?”

John sighed, “I’d like to, yeah.”

“Well then I’m happy for you. Don’t let her go again, John.”

John smirked, “I won’t. You know, as much as it was a mistake to leave her…I learned from it. I wouldn’t feel the way I do about Lyla now if we hadn’t made the mistakes that we did before. People change, and they grow. And even if we didn’t work out before…I believe that we’re different now. I think that sometimes people see their decisions as final, and they don’t realize that we’re all allowed to change our minds.”

Felicity’s eyes darted between Oliver and Diggle. “We’re not talking about you and Lyla anymore, are we?”

Diggle smirked and shook his head, “No, we’re not.”

“He told you?” She hissed.

John held his hands up, “No. Of course not. Oliver holds secrets better than you do, Felicity. I definitely thought that you’d be the one to either slip up or tell me before he did. I could tell that something changed between you two a long time ago, and I just assumed. And then a month ago you both started coming to work very unhappy and moody. Oliver especially, so my very professional and talented deductive skills lead me to come to the conclusion that you broke his heart.” He gave her a sympathetic half smile, “It was you, huh? You cut things off with him.”

Felicity nodded.

“And you regret it.”

She nodded again. “I got scared.” She said gently.

John patted her knee, “You didn't realize that breaking Oliver's heart was going to break yours too. When we get home…tell Oliver what scares you. And then forgive him. But more importantly, let him forgive you. You took a step back, Felicity, probably in the wrong direction, but that doesn’t mean that you can’t get back on the right track. Mistakes aren’t final.”

Felicity nodded, feeling a tear run down her cheek. She swiped it away quickly, but when she glanced at Oliver again, his eyes were open and unapologetically on her. He made his way over to her, his eyebrow furrowing. “Are you okay?” He asked, shifting his weight.

John stood up and clapped a hand over his shoulder. Then he left silently to sit with Lyla. Oliver took John’s seat beside her. “I’m fine.” She said, smiling at him shyly. She felt an extra layer of nerves and awkwardness after admitting that she was in love with him. “I just want to get home.”

“Can we talk?...when we get home I mean? After we get some sleep?”

Felicity nodded, “And a shower. And food.”

Oliver smirked, “I don’t think there’s anything on that list that we can’t do together.”

Felicity laughed, “We’ll see how the talking goes.”

He leaned back into his seat, “I think we both know how that’s going to go. I’m going to apologize. And then you’re going to apologize. I’ll tell you that I’m falling so hard for you that I can’t think straight and you’ll tell me again that you love me, because I’m going to need to hear that about a hundred more times.” He smiled crookedly, “And then I’m going to take you home, and I’m going to make love to you, and it will feel different than before, _better_. Then I’ll fall asleep with you in my arms and wake up the same way in the morning.”

Felicity intertwined her fingers in his, biting her lip as she fought a smile. “I don’t think it will be quite as simple as that.”

He stared into her eyes, “We do have a lot to say to each other, but I’m done playing games, Felicity. There is nothing left to say that will change how I feel about you.”

“John says that I should tell you why I was so afraid…why I ran away before.”

Oliver raised an eyebrow, “Dig knows?”

“He’s known for a while. Probably for as long as we have.”

Oliver smiled, “I’m not surprised.” He sighed, squeezing her fingers, “And I want to know those reasons, Felicity. I want to hear everything that you have to say. But the most important thing to me is what you said to me in the van. You said you loved me. And that’s all I seem to be able to think about or care about right now.”

“I kind of yelled that I love you.”

He let out a genuine laugh, “But it was still the truth, right?” His eyes fell to her as he asked, searching.

She nodded, rubbing her thumb against his hand. “I love you.” She said, staring at her thumb tracing his finger. He stayed silent and still, and she wasn't sure how he was going to react, so she didn't look up at him.

Oliver groaned, “What are your thoughts about sex on a plane?”

“With Isabel a few feet away?” She scrunched her nose, “No thanks.”

Oliver sighed, “I am sorry, you know that, right?”

Felicity nodded, “You only kissed her?” She asked, not because she didn’t believe it, but because she’d been a little drugged on rage for that car ride, and she wanted to clarify. She needed to hear it again.

He met her gaze evenly, his eyes honest and open for her to read them. “All I did was kiss her,” he promised. And then he let out a breath, glancing down at Felicity’s lips. “And if I’m being honest, she was pretty turned off by it too, when I said your name.”

Felicity’s mouth dropped open. “You what!?”

“I told you!” He defended himself, keeping his voice low, “I wanted to forget all of it. I thought that you hated me and wanted nothing to do with me. She came to my room to get my signature on some paperwork, and then she was kissing me and I found myself trying to pretend that it was you. I couldn’t, to say the least. And she could tell that I wasn’t into it. The thought of never wanting to kiss anyone besides the woman who didn’t love me back was fucking painful. I didn't want to feel like that anymore. I guess at some point during all of those thoughts, I let your name slip.” He let it all out in one long breath. “She got pissed.”

“What did she mean when she said that I could take the night off?”

Oliver played with her fingers, clearly not wanting to have this conversation here, but it was too far in to talk about anything else now. “I don’t know?” he huffed, “She made some comments about your skirts and said that apparently some people at QC think we’re sleeping together.”

Felicity hit his arm, “No way! Who?”

“Ow. Uh…everyone?”

She slapped his arm again, “No!” Her hand flew to her mouth, and John, Lyla, and Isabel all turned to look at her. Oliver shifted his chest, keeping Felicity from Isabel’s gaze in a protective move. She dropped her head to his shoulder and he smiled slightly. “What are we even supposed to say about that? It’s not like they're wrong. But I think that sleeping with your employee is highly frowned upon.”

Oliver shrugged, “Let them wonder. It’s none of their business.”

“HR might disagree.”

“I’ll take care of them.” He said.

Felicity relaxed into the seat, keeping her fingers laced with Oliver’s and her head on his shoulder. “So the ‘she can take the night off’ comment was just to piss me off? To make me think that you slept with her?”

Oliver sighed, “I guess. It doesn’t matter, baby. There’s not a chance in hell that I’m letting her or anyone else come between us now.”

“Me either,” she sighed, feeling fatigue hit her. Oliver seemed to read her mind. He kissed her head without another word. He soothingly traced her hand while she hid her face in his neck, feeling her eyes grow heavy.

When she opened her eyes again, she was looking up at her ceiling fan, hearing the familiar noises it made as it swung in circles. The memories of fighting with Oliver in a van came back to her, breaking Lyla out, escaping with Dead Shot, and the plane ride home. Her head felt groggy and her body felt heavy, signs of how long she must have been asleep.

She vaguely remembered waking up as Oliver scooped her into his arms and carried her from the plane to the backseat of their car, seeing Isabel roll her eyes at them without a word before she fell back asleep. And then waking up again, although half asleep, only long enough to somewhat help Oliver get her into pajamas and fall into bed. Plans of talking were lost when fatigue hit her hard. Apparently Russian prison breaks were draining. She’d felt like she was on crack the entire time they were in Russia, working on overdrive to make their plan work.

 The soft snoring beside her was an indication that Oliver was just as exhausted. It’d been a while since she got to lay beside him in bed; but even then, he usually fell asleep after her and woke up before. She wasn’t sure she’d ever even seen him sleep.

At least not like this. His breath was relaxed, gentle snores escaping his mouth. It was a deep, comfortable sleep. He laid on his stomach with his arm outstretched over her waist. She bit her lip, feeling protected even when he was unconscious. The worry lines that were usually present between his eyebrows and around his eyes were gone.

Felicity leaned over and ran her lips across his, peppering light kisses to his cheeks, nose and forehead. He sighed, “Good morning.” With a smile, she shoved him until he was on his back, and then she used her lips to explore his neck. “Well this is quite the way to wake up.” He said, his voice gravely from sleep.

She could hear the smile in his voice, and just imagining it made her heart pick up pace. She swung her leg over his body and straddled him, letting her tongue taste the skin over his collar bones. She kissed and licked her way back up his neck and settled on his lips. “Good morning.” She finally answered.

Oliver laughed, “We said we had a lot of talking to do.”

“Are you going to kiss Isabel again?”

Oliver’s breath caught, “No.” he said, his voice sounding disgusted.

“What about any other girls that aren’t me?”

Realizing what she was trying to do, Oliver hesitated. She wanted a quick resolution so that they could get onto the good part of making up. “That depends…” he started, waiting for her to stop kissing his jaw and look at him. “Are you going to run away again if I tell you that I love you?”

Felicity smirked, shaking her head. “I might be a genius, but I’m not always that smart.” She bit her lip. “I regretted it immediately. Won’t happen again.”

“Good. Because I do love you.”

He said it almost nervously, like he was afraid that the ‘what happens in Russia, stays in Russia’ comment included the things she’d said. “I love you, too.”

Her answer seemed to bring him some peace of mind, so she told him again. Oliver’s eyes lit up, and then she was suddenly on her back with Oliver settling between her thighs. His mouth found hers and her breathing became shallow.

She’d forgotten how capable he was at making her breathless. Every time he took control like that, air seemed hard to find. Oliver’s tongue met hers, and she opened her mouth, letting him in. He groaned, rocking his hips into hers. He took her wrists in his hands and pinned them to the pillow above her head. Felicity gasped, moving her hips upward to meet his and picking her head up to kiss him more.

Oliver let one of her wrists go. One hand clumsily laced his fingers in hers, keeping it above them. And his free hand trailed down her body. He pushed her shirt up to touch the soft skin of her stomach and breasts, but didn’t move to take the shirt off.

She bucked her hips against his, desperate to get out from under him and start removing clothing. But he was taking his time. After their time apart, she wasn’t sure how he was being so slow. All she wanted to do was feel him inside of her again. She’d thought that sex with him had addictive qualities before, but now she felt like a junkie who’d gone too long without a fix.

Oliver only wore boxers, but her shirt and panties felt restraining and hot and she just wanted them off.

She shoved against him until he pulled back enough for her to wiggle her way out of the fabric and throw it across the room like she hated it.

He chuckled, somehow finding humor where she was only feeling desperate need. She threw a sharp glare up at him and tugged down her underwear, kicking them off the bed. Oliver’s eyes wandered down her naked form beneath him. By the time they traveled back up to meet her gaze again, all humor had left them.

Oliver pressed himself between her thighs, thrusting his hips shallowly against hers. Felicity let out a loud moan, his erection rubbing over her clit. He still had his boxers on, but they were soaked in her arousal where he touched her sensitive folds. “Shit,” he hissed, kneading himself against her again.

Felicity sighed, not in the mood for any foreplay. She dipped her fingers into his boxers and stroked him a few times, feeling how hard he was and hearing him moan as she touched him. She pushed his boxers over his ass, working them down his legs and off of his ankles.

Now that there wasn’t a stitch of clothing between them, Oliver lowered his body onto hers. He fit snugly between her legs, his body weight pushing her into the mattress with just enough pressure to feel perfect and warm. She ran her fingers lazily over his shoulders as he kissed her again. But she was rocking her hips up in anticipation soon after. She held her breath when she felt him position himself at her entrance. Her legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer until he finally slid home. He slipped into her effortlessly, coated in her juices and he let out a load groan. “Fuck, you feel amazing.”

Pumping in and out of her, Felicity felt her orgasm building quickly, clouding her head and different, in a way she’d never felt before. It wasn’t necessarily better than the rough way he’d fucked her in her living room, or when they’d had sex on the ground of Lian Yu, it was just different.

It was amazing.

She opened her eyes slowly, wanting to see his face. He was staring down at her, watching every movement of her features as he moved inside of her. Felicity moaned, reaching between them to rub her clit in small, fast circles. Oliver glanced down at what she was doing and then let out a breath. He grabbed her headboard with one hand and held on to her hip tightly with the other, pushing into her harder, his hips moving quickly in perfect rhythm with hers.

His fingers dug into her skin, the wooden headboard pounded against the wall.

For once, talking didn’t seem necessary. She’d heard him confess his obsession with her short skirts, tell her how her laugh turned him on, admit to her how getting head was his favorite sexual endeavor, but there was a new intensity in the way he moved with her now. They knew each others' bodies. They knew how to move in a way that brought them both pleasure. It was familiar and comfortable at the same time that it was exciting and sexy.

It was love.

Her legs held him in a death grip and her walls were squeezing his cock even tighter but he didn’t mind. He groaned, using both of his hands to grip her headboard and thrust into her harder. Oliver moaned, and Felicity could see how close he was. Oliver Queen on the verge of orgasm, panting and pistoning into her was a gorgeous sight. She felt her body right on the edge with him. Oliver pumped into her one more time before he came, jerking and pulsing inside of her, filling her. He cried out, and her orgasm chased after his, squeezing him even tighter and he cursed. 

He stayed inside of her while she came down, and then he released his grip of the headboard and cupped her face. Breathing heavily, Oliver let his head fall to her neck. She hummed, kissing his hair and tracing her fingers over his back. “I love you.” She breathed. And then she felt overwhelmingly tired again.

 Oliver pulled out of her, licking her neck and catching his breath. “I love you, baby.” He adjusted his weight so that he wasn’t crushing her, but kept his face hidden in her neck. Her hand slowly raked through his hair, and it wasn’t long until both of their breathing evened out, completely in sync.


	5. Season Three: Oliver

It was after her crazy ex-boyfriend kidnapped her.

Oliver exhaled, forcing himself to calm down for the sixteenth time since he saw Felicity with a gun pointed at her head. She’d been in danger before, but he’d never felt a moment of panic like that. Seeing Cooper with a gun aimed at Felicity's face, holding her so close to his body, his lips at her ear…he hesitated. He would have laughed at the irony; after being shot at by Cooper's machines, it scared him so much more when the weapon was aimed at her. Instead of sending an arrow into Cooper’s hand, he froze, worrying that he might accidentally hit Felicity...when usually he would have trusted his instincts and skill.

He got lucky that he was dating such a badass. Felicity used self-defense moves that he’d taught her, and he’d never been prouder. After countless lessons; either lessons where he wasn’t even sure that she was paying attention, or lessons where she would distract him and they’d end up using the mats for other things…he wasn’t confident that she would remember the things he’d shown her.

But still, he was _lucky_ that his hesitation didn’t cause her to have a bullet in her head. He’d seen plenty of death in his life. He’d seen dead bodies and gruesome kills. He knew what it looked like when a person’s life faded out of their eyes. And he also knew Felicity like the back of his hand. He could tell with one look from her when she was angry, or sad, or when she was thinking about how much she loved him, he even could read her expression and know when she was horny.

His head was doing awful things to him, twisting the two experiences, and he had images flashing through his mind of the life leaving Felicity’s eyes.

It was disorienting.

Oliver turned around when he heard her sigh. She sat at her computers in the bunker across from him, her back to him. Spinning his chair around, Oliver tried to shake his fears off before he started the inevitable conversation. “How long until you talk to me?” He asked quietly.

Felicity turned her head, her ponytail swinging around and landing on her shoulder as she threw him a glare. “Are you fucking kidding me, Oliver!?” Her voice was loud, especially after an hour of silence between them.

He sighed, leaning forward. He didn’t bother responding, knowing that she just needed him to say something to get her going. He waited, and she turned in her chair too so that they were facing each other.

The distance felt wrong. Anytime they argued, Felicity made sure that she was touching him in some way. It made her feel comforted and loved in some way, and Oliver had quickly gotten on board. Now, looking at her across the room, angry glares being thrown at him, he needed to touch her, to know that no matter how pissed off she was, that she wasn’t going anywhere.

Oliver leaned back in his chair, opening his arms. Felicity’s eyes softened slightly and she stood. He watched as she stepped out of her heels, and then took her earrings off and placed them on her desk. Her bare feet padded across the bunker until she reached his chair, and then she climbed onto it with him, straddling his lap.

The moment she touched him, his anger and insecurities began to fall away. “You shouldn’t have done what you did.” She said, her voice stern, her hands touching his shoulders over his shirt.

Cooper had woken up, after Felicity knocked him out, while they waited for Lance to show up with a pair of handcuffs. And Oliver had punched him, square in the jaw, to knock him out again.

Felicity knew he'd punched him harder than necessary, but when she got pissed over it, it made him angry, too. “I’ve done a lot more for a lot less. He’s lucky he’s still alive.” He said through his teeth, remembering the way she’d screamed when he’d hit Cooper.

Then she’d given _him_ the silent treatment, as if punching the guy who had just held her gunpoint was _wrong_. “The police were coming, he wasn’t armed…you hit him because he’s my ex-boyfriend.”

Oliver’s eyes narrowed, “No. I punched him because he held a gun at you, because he kidnapped you and your mother! Why do I even have to defend that?”

“He wasn’t holding a gun when you hit him!”

“So _what_?” Oliver asked, his voice harsher than he’d meant for it to be.

Felicity’s eyes widened, “Since when is knocking out an unarmed, half-conscious person _okay_?”

“Since he _kidnapped_ you,” Oliver said slowly, driving his point across, “and tried to _kill_ you.”

Felicity wiggled on his lap, clearly getting uncomfortable and fighting the urge to have space, “Don’t be condescending. It just makes things worse when you do that!”

Oliver took a deep breath, refusing to snap back at her until he inhaled and exhaled. “Felicity,” he said, lowering his voice, “I can’t have this conversation. I can’t debate whether or not that asshole deserved a fist to his face. He had you and he was going to hurt you. He’s lucky it wasn’t an arrow in his eye.”

“Oliver!”

“He tries to kill you and your mother, and you’re mad at _me_ for punching him?” He had to bite his tongue from adding a _what the fuck?_ “Why are you defending him?” Oliver asked, his eyes narrowing. He tried to cover up the hurt and confusion he was feeling by staring down at his lap.

“I’m not!” She yelled. And then her shoulders sagged.

"Are you angry with me because he's your ex?" Oliver asked, trying and failing to keep the accusation out of his tone. "Do you still care about him or something?" He looked up at her and she sighed.

“I just don’t want you to hurt people when you don’t have to.” She whispered.

Oliver stared at her for a moment, his hands dropping to grip her thighs. He waited another moment until he was sure that he had her attention. “I only knocked him out Felicity. I didn't kill him."

"I _know_ that."

"Listen to me, anyone who threatens you…anyone who lays a hand on you...is going to have to deal with me. I won’t apologize for that, and I can’t promise you that it won’t happen again. You protected yourself tonight, and I am so proud of you for that. But whether you need it or not, I will always protect you, too. I won’t say I’m sorry for hurting someone who wanted to hurt you.”

Felicity sighed, wrapping her arms around his neck and hugging him. Oliver hesitated a moment in surprise, and then he ran his hands up her back. “Does this mean you’re done yelling at me?”

She laughed, “yeah,” she said, nestling her nose into his neck. “I’m done yelling.”

Oliver heard the strain in her voice and nudged her until he could see her face. “Why are you crying?” he asked gently, wiping her tears away with his thumbs.

She smiled, “No one’s ever cared about me like you do.” She said, dropping her shoulders as more tears fell. She gestured to him, “No one’s even _looked_ at me like you do, and it just…it feels really good.”    

Oliver exhaled, feeling like the worst of the storm was over. “Let’s go home, baby.”

Felicity nodded, offering him a small smile. Then she stood up and pulled him to his feet.

He was still confused by what had just happened, but he didn't ask because he got the feeling that Felicity wasn't really sure what she was feeling either. Seeing Cooper, her ex-boyfriend who she thought was dead, screwed with her head. He understood that better than anyone. Not only was her first love alive, but he tried to kill her. He was a psychopath. Oliver started to realize that the fight was just a manifestation of her emotions that she had to channel into something. He realized that she wasn't actually angry at him, but she needed to be angry at something. 

Watching as Felicity put her shoes back on, Oliver swallowed, thinking that he would be happy to spend the rest of his life having fights like that with her if it meant he got to go home with her each night. "Felicity...I want you to know that whatever experiences you had to go through, I'm glad that you did. They shaped the person you are today. And you know how I feel about her."

She smiled at him. "I love you, too."

Taking his hand, she lead him up the stairs, but when she reached the top, she glanced around the empty club. “What is it?” He asked. Without responding, Felicity let go of him and made her way to the bar. She climbed onto it, sitting on top of the cool green glass.

Felicity reached around and pulled out a bottle of vodka. “Let’s have a drink before we go home.”

“To…? Celebrate the fact that we just had a disagreement without blowing up on each other and walking away?”

She bit her lip. “Something like that.” Felicity poured two shot glasses, and then she lifted her leg onto one of the barstools, giving him a perfect view of what was under her skirt. Or rather, what _wasn’t_ under her skirt. She smirked when he let out a low growl. She held out the shot glass and Oliver closed the space between them to take it.

Keeping his eyes on her, he knocked it back, watching as she did the same. Then he was between her legs, his hand reaching between her thighs. Felicity pressed one hand to his chest and gripped his wrist with the other, “Not so fast, Queen.” She murmured. “You couldn’t keep your hands to yourself tonight. Maybe we should practice that now.”

Oliver’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t want me to touch you?” Felicity pursed her lips and shook her head. “Are you punishing me…or teasing me, Felicity Smoak?”

She cocked her head to the side, licking her lips slowly so that he could admire it. “Maybe a little bit of both.”

Oliver kept his body between her legs, but gripped the glass bar on either side of her. “And how long do you expect that to last?”

“Well,” she said, her voice all teasing, fun, and insanely sexy. He felt his cock jump in anticipation, hanging onto her words. She was taunting him, playing a game with him, and clearly loving every second of it. “I didn’t say that I wouldn’t touch you.”

Oliver raised an eyebrow, and Felicity ran her hands slowly down his chest to his belt, her nails dragging over his shirt and pants. His eyes lulled closed, and then her hand gripped him and he let out a sharp breath. “So, because I punched your ex-boyfriend…your idea of retribution is for me not to touch you…but you’re going to touch me?” He opened his eyes to smirk back at her, teasing as much as she was, “That doesn’t sound like a punishment to me.”

Felicity gripped him harder in her hand at the same time that her thighs gripped his waist. She leaned into him, licking a line across his neck until she reached his ear. Oliver groaned loudly, and Felicity bit down on his earlobe. “Just because I’ll _touch_ you...doesn’t mean I won’t tease you.” She whispered.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Oliver moaned back, knowing that it came out more aroused than disappointed. And the rock hard erection he was sporting beneath his pants agreed.

Felicity leaned back, pulling him closer so that her nails could dig into his back and massage the muscles there. Her tongue lapped at his ear, nipping and sucking. Oliver’s hands flew to her waist, to grip her, and then she pushed him until he faltered back a few steps. She held a finger up, “No. Touching. Oliver.”

Oliver clenched his jaw, his eyes hot on hers as he sat down on one of the stools. Felicity ran her hand down her own body, between her breasts and down her leg. She put her foot on his lap, and then she slowly removed her heel. He dug his fingers into his thighs to keep from touching her gorgeous feet and legs as she took off her other shoe.

The next thing he knew, her shoes were on the floor and she was rising to stand, on top of the bar. He strained his neck to stare up at her. Felicity smiled down at him, her fingers toying with the edge of her little white crop top. Oliver’s fingers dug into his thighs harder as she slowly slid her fingers down to her skirt. She slowly took off her skirt, driving him crazy with every inch of exposed skin. And then threw it at his face, laughing when he didn’t flinch. Her skirt fell to his lap, and then her shirt. He didn’t even offer the clothing a glance, even more to her amusement.

He couldn’t take his eyes off of her, his sexy, perfect woman; as she strutted down the bar, completely naked. Felicity leaned down when she found a bottle that she liked. Whiskey now, apparently. His eyes roamed over her ass and legs as she bent down, stretching to display her perfect center, wet and shiny with her own arousal.

He growled, unable to stop his hand from rubbing over his pants, over his aching cock, when he realized how wet she was just from her little game…without him even touching her.

As she straightened, Felicity took a sip out of the bottle. She raised her eyebrows, glancing down at the alcohol in her hand. “Can we take this one home?” She asked.

Oliver’s mouth was dry, his throat tight. He’d never been so aroused in his life. He nodded once. Felicity nodded too. And then she was back to the sexy, alluring woman walking across his bar. Felicity walked back to him, sitting down on the edge of the glass right in front of his chair. She took another swig of the liquid. This time, holding the bottle to her lips and letting a few drops escape her lips.

He watched as the alcohol slid down her chin and neck. “Oh,” she teased, “I don’t have a napkin.” Oliver growled, knowing that he wasn’t supposed to touch her and mentally saying ‘fuck it,’ before he leaned in. His tongue lapped at the whiskey, which settled on her breast. He sucked for a moment before tracing the wet line up her chest and neck.

She sat above him, with her head tilted up, and he infuriatingly couldn’t reach her lips. He wanted to taste the whiskey there, too.

He felt her hands roaming over his chest, her nails dragged against his nipples and he grunted. Then she gripped his shoulders and pushed him back. “No. Touching. Oliver.” She repeated.

Oliver leaned forward, “As much as I’m enjoying your little game, baby…you’re buck naked on my bar, and I can see exactly how turned on this is making you, too. How long should I play along until you let me fuck you?”

Felicity angled her head down to glare at him, her eyes narrowing. He bit his lip, cursing himself and wishing he’d just kept his mouth shut. “You’re forgetting something, Oliver,” Felicity said, her eyes lighting with a new idea. “I don’t need _you_ to get me off.”

He watched as she leaned back on the bar, her bare body lying across it right in front of him. Her blonde hair spread out over the glass, her back arched as her hands roamed her own body. She kneaded her breasts, tugging on her nipples and letting out a sultry moan. Oliver could only watch in fascination, trying to imprint every move she made into his memory.

Her hands slipped down her stomach, and then she let one knee fall open, and she slid her fingers in her arousal, still holding one of her breasts in her other hand. “Damn it, Felicity.” He growled through his teeth. “You win, okay?”

Felicity cried out, her fingers moving faster against her clit. “Oliver,” she moaned. Oliver stood, unbuttoning his pants in a rush and tugging them down to his ankles. He gripped his length in his hand, stroking it slowly as she built herself up.

“Let me touch you, baby.”

Felicity’s fingers slowed, but didn’t stop completely, dripping in her juices. She opened her eyes and turned her head to look at him. Her eyes fell to where he was touching himself and she whined, nodding.

He stepped forward, and then stopped. He had the girl of his dreams, the woman he wanted to spend his life with, naked and touching herself on the bar of his club. She’d teased him, taken control; confident and sexy as hell. This was one of those memories that he knew he'd think about for the rest of his life. He wanted her to finish what she started. “If you want me to touch you, Felicity. You have to say it. Tell me what you want me to do.”

Her eyes were on fire, so aroused and lost in her desire for him that it almost made him choke on his breath. “I want you to touch me.” She said. “I want you to come over here and get inside of me.” She turned over on the bar, lying on her stomach and looking back at him. She rotated her hips, her ass lifting and her hair falling over her back. “Now.”

“Oh my god,” Oliver couldn’t help but rush to her. He obeyed, climbing onto the bar and on top of her. He kept her thighs between his legs, rubbing his erection slowly in her juices and over her ass, letting out a loud groan. Felicity pushed back to meet him, and he slid home. “Yes, baby. You feel amazing.” Oliver sighed, feeling like his body had been craving her for weeks after the way she'd built him up. His hips moved to their own rhythm.

Felicity cried out, moving against him, riding him while he hovered over her, his hands were all over her; gripping her ass, in her hair, his fingers running over her shoulders and back. “Don’t stop.” He pleaded, “I’m so close already. Holy shit, you’re perfect.”

“ _Yes_ , Oliver.” Felicity said, her voice lower than usual, and he knew that she was close too.

Felicity laid forward, pressing her face against the glass bar and spreading her legs wider for him. Her eyes closed as she screamed his name, and Oliver laid his body over hers. He rocked his hips into her, going deeper than before and she cried out loudly, her voice ringing through the empty club. Oliver brushed her hair off of her shoulders, breathing heavily as he pounded into her, and she rolled her hips, providing a sensation that had them both screaming each other’s names as they moved in sync.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this chapter is shorter than usual, but I hope that Verdant sex makes up for it! I'd really like to finish this before S6 starts! Thank you all for reading and leaving such thoughtful comments! Writing smut with feelings is harder than I thought it would be, but the feedback has made it a lot easier, and so much fun!


	6. Season Three: Felicity

 It was after Oliver survived the fall.

“While you were gone, for almost a _month_ , I allowed myself to fantasize, to dream that maybe, just maybe, Merlyn was wrong; that you were alive, that you would come back, and that when you did you would be different, that almost dying would give you a new perspective on life, that you would just do _things_ differently-”

“Things between us, you mean.”

Felicity hesitated, wondering if he had changed at all as he stood there in the alley. She was tired of being a secret. She was tired of him never letting her in, always putting up walls and avoiding topics of his past.

He loved her. She knew that. But she was still waiting for the day that he would trust her completely, that he would open up to her and _want_ to talk to her. “Before you left, the last thing you said to me…was that you love me. Now you’re back, and the first thing you tell me is that you are working with the man who turned your sister, a woman you’re supposed to love, into a killer; who _killed_ a woman you used to love.” She paused, knowing the weight of what she was about to say. “I don’t want to be a woman that _you_ love.”

As he stared at her, his eyes wide and hurt, begging her to take it back, she nudged by him, heading inside with every intent of getting her things and going home. She’d daydreamed about seeing him again nearly every night, and every morning she woke up for a split second of happiness before his absence crushed her.

Everyone thought that he was dead. Roy, John and Laurel did their best to fill the void that he’d left in their city. But she knew that Oliver Queen was not someone that you could ever replace; and it terrified her to try. So, while her friends moved on, she held on. She kept track of all his accounts, but they all went dark, untouched. It wasn’t until Malcolm Merlyn delivered a sword covered in Oliver’s blood that she lost some of the hope she’d been clinging on to.

But even then, she knew that accepting his death would mean a piece of herself had died with him, and she didn’t want to lose either; him or herself. She’d spent all those weeks desperately holding on to hope; hope that he was alive, hope that she’d see him walking through the door one day. And when she finally did, he said that he’d decided to join forces with Malcolm Merlyn. Right after she’d yelled at the team for even considering it…because she swore that Oliver never would have.

She was wrong.

And she was angry. She’d dreamed about seeing him again; what he’d say, how he’d act. She dreamed about being with him in public. No more hiding, no more lies. But he’d blown back into town without a word, leaving her to see him on TV and then barely looking at her while he spoke to the team.

And now he stood in front of her even more afraid and closed off from her than he’d been since they met.

She wasn’t just angry. She was furious.

“Felicity.”

She froze in her tracks, not wanting to turn around because she was afraid that his face would look as hurt as his voice sounded, and she would have a hard time walking away. She heard his footsteps behind her, and she turned, shaking her head at him, but his eyes were piercing into her, as angry as she felt.

Oliver took her face between his hands and lifted it, his eyes darting between hers. “Is that how you really feel?”

Felicity closed her eyes, begging her body not to be affected by how amazing it felt to have his hands on her again. She bit her lip, and he sighed, stepping closer. She could feel the frustration leaving him in her hesitation. She didn’t yell, she didn’t tell him to go to hell, and she didn’t confirm that she’d meant what she’d said. She kept her eyes closed and stayed quiet because she wasn’t actually sure _how_ she felt; from being relieved at seeing him, to sad, to angry, to grateful…it was a lot. He chose to accept her confusion, not pushing her into a fight. Instead, she felt his lips, gentle and soft, against her cheek.

“I’m so sorry that I’ve hurt you. I wish I would have found a better way to come back here…to tell you about Malcolm. I should have gone to you first. The first thing I should have done was kiss you, not dropped this on you.” Felicity sighed, leaning into his hands.

He never bothered to pretend with her. He never played it coy, never tried to charm her. He just let her see him. He didn’t even attempt at hiding how much he loved her, even after she’d been so nasty to him. He still stared at her like she was the only woman he’d ever love, still touched her like she was something precious to him. “Why are you crying?” He whispered, his thumbs wiping at her cheeks. “Felicity…it’s okay.”

She shook her head, “No, it’s not. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know where we go from here.”

“Hey,” He said, soothing her as he stepped closer, “I love you. So much. And there wasn’t one moment that I wasn’t thinking about you…since the second I left until right now, you were right there with me.”

Felicity opened her eyes, looking into his and seeing the intense honesty behind his gaze that made her heart race. She imagined what he had been through, seeing that sword from Malcolm in her mind, remembering that Malcolm said he must have fallen from the mountain, frozen to death even if the sword hadn't killed him…how hurt he must have been. But he was back. And it wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t what she dreamed of. It wasn’t even what she expected from him. But it was him. “I’m so sorry,” She whispered, closing her eyes again, not wanting the mental pictures of what she imagined his duel with Ra’s was like.

Oliver’s brow furrowed, and he ran his thumbs over her cheeks, pressing his lips to her forehead and pulling her into his arms. “For what, baby? You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“You almost _died_. I can’t even imagine what you’ve been through. Malcolm brought us the sword…and I don’t even want to think about how awful these past few weeks have been for you. You’ve survived so much and I just- I wish that you hadn’t have had to. I wish I could have carried some of that for you, but instead I feel like I just make it worse and I hate that I will never truly understand the pain that you’ve been through…but you almost _died_ , and I just _yelled_ at you. So I’m sorry.”

“Fe-li-ci-ty,” he tightened his arms around her as he hummed her name in her favorite way. God, she’d missed how her name sounded on his lips. “My experiences shouldn’t stop you from telling me how you feel. We can debate all night about Malcolm, but I’d rather hold you tonight. It’s been a long day, and I just want to be with you.”

Felicity nodded, “I was afraid I wouldn’t see you again.” She said, tears falling down her cheeks as she spoke with her eyes closed.

Oliver’s lips covered her face in kisses, “I’m here.” He mumbled, “You don’t need to be sorry, I understand how emotional this all is, I feel it too. But we’re both alive. I have you back, and I don’t want to talk about anything besides you and me. The rest can wait until tomorrow, okay?”

She nodded, calmed by the way his lips grazed her face, his nose rubbing against hers. “Okay.”

Oliver moved his mouth to her ear, whispering softly. “We protect the city together. But we need to learn how to separate those things from _us_. Because me and you…Felicity, we just _work_.” She opened her eyes slowly, leaning her cheek into his. “You make me want to be the man that you see in me. And I don’t want to let Merlyn or anyone else come between us. I know…I know that if it was just me and you…if we didn’t have to worry about the team, or the city, or anything else…we’d be perfectly happy together.”

Felicity nodded, hiding her face in his neck. She’d had similar daydreams. Normal life. With him. A long drive. A beach. Seeing the world with him. No missions, no interruptions, just them…and she knew that it would be perfect. That they would be happy, and they would spend their lives arguing over who’s turn it was to wash the dishes or how many kids they were going to have.

“Felicity…” Oliver mumbled as he listened to her crying, tears she hadn’t even realized were falling.

“I wish your boat never crashed on that stupid island and I wish you never met Amanda Waller, or Slade Wilson, or Ra’s Al Ghul.” She confessed, “I wish you could have had a normal life, Oliver.”

Oliver pulled back, analyzing her face for a moment. His eyes darkened as he realized that her tears were for him. That she was hurting for the pain that he’d lived through. “Felicity..." He trailed off, shaking his head, his fingers stroking her face, tucking her hair behind her ears. "Please don't cry over me." She understood what he meant; _I don't deserve it._

“Are you okay?” She asked. She reached her hands up his body, running them over every inch of him as if she was looking for the brokenness, trying to heal it.

Oliver shut his eyes, nodding. “You have no idea how good it is to feel this again.” He mumbled, leaning his face into her palm as she touched his cheek.

She knew how wrong he was; he deserved every tear she shed for him. He was a man who survived, who fought for the people that he loved, who had a heart that was so big it could encompass his entire city.

But he was also someone who was broken. Someone who never deserved the torture and pain that life had thrown at him. He battled with monsters and carried weight that no one should ever have to experience. And he was still beautiful.

She blinked back more tears, and Oliver quickly took her face between his hands and planted his lips on hers.

He deserved to heal. And she wanted to be the one to help him do it. Felicity leaned towards him, circling her hips into his and hearing him release a moan immediately. She gripped at his arms, her heart picked up, feeling an urgency rising. Suddenly their weeks apart flooded both of them, touching him in that moment felt like life or death. She needed to feel him.

His arms wrapped around her waist, his hands gripping her tightly as his mouth crushed hers, his lips working against hers, his tongue slipping into her mouth. The noises he made as he lost control elicited her own moans, along with a dampness between her legs. His need for her matched hers. “Oliver,” she moaned, biting down on his lip as her hips rocked into his. He read the need she felt for friction, only slightly finding it against his jeans.

Oliver slipped his hand under her dress, shoving her panties aside, and just as quickly, his fingers were stroking her. He lifted her slightly, and she hung on to his shoulders, burying her face in his neck as she cried out. She wrapped one leg around his waist, grinding against his hand. Oliver guided her backwards until he had her pressed against the brick wall of Verdant. She could hear his ragged breaths in her ear, and she wanted to take care of him.

Felicity picked her head up, reaching between them and gripping her hand around his wrist to stop him. He sighed, slowing his hand but his fingers still stroked her. He put his forehead against hers, catching his breath, “Why are we stopping?” He asked.

He stared into her eyes intensely, hear radiating from his gaze and her mind went blank for a moment. Instead of answering, she wiggled against him until he released her from the cage of his body. She kissed his neck, running her hands down his body, unzipping his jacket. When she reached his pants, she tugged on the zipper, bending to kneel in front of him. His hands grabbed both of her wrists to stop her, keeping her tight against his chest.

Her eyes flew up to meet his, and he shook his head slightly, his jaw tensing. She raised an eyebrow, and he growled, “Later.” Oliver lifted her arms and adjusted them around his neck. Then he bent her leg at her knee and hiked it back around his waist. He grinded his hips into hers, his jeans rubbing against her sensitive nub and she gasped, her nails digging into is neck. He cursed, pushing her with his hips into the wall even harder and she cried out. “Right now, I want to watch you come.”

Felicity could only nod. Oliver reached his hand back between them, shoving her underwear aside again and pushing his fingers against her clit. Felicity wrapped both arms around his neck, pressing her chest to his and burying her face in his neck. She kissed and sucked at his neck, marking him as hers and listening to his panting as his hips flexed into hers; pinning her against the wall and protecting her. He dropped his lips to her ear, pulling her earlobe into his mouth and sucking on it, biting it gently with his teeth, reminding her of the first time he’d done that and she’d let out a loud moan, surprising him for a moment until a pleased and wicked smile had spread across her lips. Now he loved it, always eliciting the same response from her. She moaned now, piercing the quiet alley, and he growled back in reply, a low sound that came from his chest.

He rubbed her frantically, chasing the cries that freed themselves from her throat. “Yes, Felicity,” he encouraged, just as breathless as she was. She clung to him, digging her fingers into his back and he hid his face in her neck, letting her feel his ragged breath on her skin as his fingers worked her up.

Her legs began to shake, and she knew that he could feel it because he let out a soft chuckle as he always did, pleased with himself every time he made her lose control like this. She couldn’t stop the moans and screams that ripped through her body, and she didn’t care to. “I want to feel you come around my fingers,” he murmured, panting as he pushed his fingers inside of her, moving his thumb to rub her sensitive nub.

 “Oh my god,” She moaned, his fingers sliding in and out of her easily in a desperate rhythm.

The door behind him suddenly swung open, and Oliver pulled his fingers out of her just as she screamed, the door crashing against the brick wall startling her. She hid her head in his chest. Oliver glanced behind him, “Laurel,” he breathed, not moving for Felicity’s sake, letting her stay hidden behind him.

“Oh. _Oh_. I’m sorry. We…we just wanted to make sure you guys were okay. And…now I see that you are.” Felicity closed her eyes, completely frozen with her arms and leg wrapped around Oliver. He didn’t move either, just turned his head to look at Laurel. Felicity felt him nod, and Laurel cleared her throat, “Okay, I’m going to leave. You two have a good night.”

Oliver hesitated, watching as the door closed behind Laurel before turning to Felicity. She groaned, her face now hidden behind her hands. Oliver sighed, tugging on her wrists, “Felicity, look at me.”

She moved her hands away from her face so that she could slap his chest gently. “Maybe if you would have told her about us, that wouldn't have happened!”

“I haven’t really had the time!” He huffed, “I will. Now, can I finish giving you that amazing orgasm you were about to have?”

Felicity rolled her eyes, “No,” She grimaced, her body reacting to the need she still felt to have that orgasm. “I never told... Laurel…or Roy…about us, I mean, while you were gone.”

Oliver sighed, stepping away from her and pulling out his keys. “We’ll tell them tomorrow. Together. I’m sure Dig will pretend to be shocked. Tonight, though…” His eyes softened as he watched her, flushed and aroused. She was so in love with him it made her do crazy things like let him touch her in an alley. “Come home with me.”

Felicity beamed, reaching her arms out for him. He came between her legs, and she kissed his cheek, her lips trailing down to his neck where she nipped at him. Oliver groaned, “Come home with me.” He said again.

She laughed, sucking harder on his favorite spot, leaving her mark. “Yes.” She mumbled.

He hummed, “Okay. And we’ll tell the team in the morning.” He lifted her chin to look at her eyes. And she saw the first glimpse of playfulness since he came back. “I can call the media tomorrow, too, if you want. Tell them that I’m in love with Felicity Smoak. Maybe put posters around town. Scream it from some rooftops.”

Felicity giggled, “That’s a good start.”

He chuckled, “Honestly, Felicity. I’m alive. I’m home. I don’t care who knows that I love you.”

Felicity bit her lip, “I just wish Laurel didn’t have to see that…but, they might have already figured it out. I was…not very subtle.”

His eyes searched hers, “I’m sorry. You thought you lost me…and none of our friends even knew about us.”

She shook her head, “John did. I’m okay. You did what you had to do to keep Thea safe. To keep us all safe. I just wish you never had to make that choice.”

He nodded slowly, staring at her with new appreciation. She knew how it felt to not know if they'd ever see each other again. “I love you.” He whispered.

Felicity closed her eyes, “It feels so good to hear you saying that again.” Oliver gripped her hips, hiking her body closer and lifting her off the ground. She wrapped her legs around him.

He stared up at her and smiled, “Oh yeah?" She nodded. "I love you,” he mumbled again. Oliver carried her to his bike, mumbling his “I love you’s” in her ear as he kissed her, listening to her giggles filling the empty parking lot.

By the time he reached his bike, Felicity was raving, her hips jerking against his, seeking friction against the bulge in his jeans. “Take me home and prove it,” she whispered in his ear.

Oliver smirked, “I will.” He said, setting her down in front of the motorcycle and handing her his helmet.

She took it, smiling back, “Promise?”

“Promise.”

* * *

 

She wasn’t sure what had woken her up. “Oliver,” she croaked, reaching across the bed to reach him. His side was empty, but the sheets were warm where he had been. She sighed, turning and flicking on the lamp beside her. She blinked as her eyes burned from the light. Rubbing them, she sat up, pulling the sheet over her breasts and glancing around.

Oliver sat on the floor against the window, wearing a pair of boxers. His legs were pulled up to his chest, his face hidden in the crook of his elbow. “Oliver?” She asked, scrambling out of bed. He lifted his head to look up at her, something intense and painful in his eyes. “What is it?” She asked.

He shook his head, and she picked his shirt up off the floor and pulled it over her head, crossing the room to kneel in front of him. “Hey,” she whispered, touching every part of him that she could reach. Oliver sighed, dropping his legs, and she scooted between them. His arms hung at his sides instead of wrapping around her as she hugged him. “Talk to me,” she pleaded, consciously keeping her voice calm and soft.

“My dreams feel so real ever since…”

She searched his eyes, “Ever since Ra’s almost killed you?”

Oliver’s eyes fluttered shut, “It wasn’t _almost_ , Felicity. He did.” Her hands froze on his face and he opened his eyes. “Kill me, I mean. He did. A friend of mine…in the league, he found me and he brought me to another friend…and she-I don’t know. But I swear…I died. I-I _felt_ it.”

Felicity shook her head, “And your friend, she…” He nodded slowly.

Her gaze fell down his chest to the noticeable mark. She bit her lip to keep from crying out; the wound from Ra’s sword stood out against his other scars. Those ones were mostly healed, easily accepted as tortures of his past…but this scar was fresh; his skin was bruised around it, the mark a dark red color, protruding and angry. She knew him and loved him before he'd received that scar. She'd known his body without it.

Felicity sat in silence, watching his face, taking in every feature and wondering how a man who had been through hell had come out alive, still so passionate. So loving and strong. She was struck by the fact that after everything the world had put him through, Oliver still wanted to save it. His scar was gruesome and wicked, but the man underneath it was the opposite. He was broken in the most breathtaking way. Because he didn't let those things make him hateful or evil. If his scars were reminders of the beautiful person that he was, then she hoped that he was never ashamed of them. She wasn't.

He touched her hands where they sat on either side of his face, his brow furrowing. She shook her head, knowing that he'd hate it if he knew how deeply she felt his pain. With him. She knew that if she lost her calm, he would stop talking about this, and she wanted to hear it. She needed to hear it. She wanted to know everything that had hurt him, everything about him, and his sharing was rare. She took a deep breath, “Tell me.”

Oliver hesitated, trying to decide if he should or not. She nodded encouragingly, “Please,” she whispered.

“There was a moment…as Ra’s stabbed me, where I knew that I would never see you, or Thea, or John, or anyone else again. It wasn’t fear. It wasn’t even sadness. It was just this overwhelming feeling of _knowing_. I saw my parents. And Tommy...and it was like I just _knew_ that it was over. Not just the fight, but my life." She saw the tears behind his eyes and he took a deep breath. She did the same. "I know it sounds silly, but I saw all of you in that one moment. That one second. And then it was just gone. I don't remember the fall. I don't remember Maseo finding me or Tatsu healing me. I don't remember anything until I woke up again.”

She resisted the urge to ask questions. There were so many things he still hadn't shared with her. So many parts of his life and things he'd been through that he didn't talk about. His eyes focused on hers, “You were the last thing I saw. And the only thing I saw…while Tatsu healed me.” His eyes bore into hers, and every question she had fled from her mind. Nothing else seemed important besides what he was saying now. She just listened.

Her heart felt swollen, it ached for him. But she also felt whole, knowing that his love for her ran deeper than she could have imagined. _She_ was the last thing he saw before he fell off the mountain. 

“I kept having this dream over and over.” He whispered. “The last time I saw you, you wanted to ask me not to go, but you knew that I had to. And in my dream, every time…I tell you that I’ll stay. I change my mind, and I tell you that I love you and I-I kiss you, and everything feels _right_.”

Felicity blinked and Oliver gripped her hands tighter, “But as soon as I do…I feel that sword in my chest.”

“Oliver…”

“The same dream." He pondered, like he wasn't sure himself why he kept having it.

“Is that what you dreamt about tonight?” She asked.

Oliver’s eyes darkened, “Not exactly.”

“What was it, then?” She asked. He shook his head, and she pulled his hands away, gripping them in hers. “Tell me.”

He sighed, “I saw you die.” He said, his voice low. She heard the darkness in his tone. “I expected it to end like it always does. When I feel the sword in my chest…I wake up.” His eyes lifted to meet hers and all she saw was pain. “But it wasn’t me.”

Felicity’s heart pounded in her chest as if it was trying to escape and offer itself to him. She quickly leaned forward and pressed her lips to his.

Oliver gasped, kissing her back, pulling her closer. “I’m right here.” She mumbled against his lips, stroking his face. “I’m okay. You’re okay. It was just a dream.”

She climbed onto his lap, straddling him where he sat on the floor as her lips crushed his. His hands flew all over her, touching her like he had to feel every inch of her skin to make sure, a dull intensity behind his rough fingers as they dug into her.

Oliver grunted, pushing his hands up her shirt and then pulling back suddenly. He glanced away, just as out of breath as she was.

Felicity tried to catch her breath, “Why are you stopping?” She asked, caught up in the moment.

Oliver pressed his fingers to his lips, removing them from her body. “I’m just…I don’t know how gentle I’m capable of being with you right now.”

“I don’t remember complaining,” she whispered.

Oliver’s gaze was cautious at it met hers, and she forced herself to relax, despite the growing intensity that she was feeling, she wanted him to know that she wanted it. She felt like a ball of nerves; not because she was afraid, but because she’d never really seen him like this. Vulnerable.

She nodded, “I’m right here,” she whispered.

Oliver let out a low, guttural sound from his throat, catching her lips with his. “I will never let anyone hurt you, Felicity.” He promised, his voice gruff.

Felicity moaned, “I know.” She said, running her hands over him, trying to comfort him, tell him there wasn’t any danger of that. “I know, Oliver.” She took his face between her hands again, accepting the breathless way he kissed her. He dropped his lips to her jaw, and she tilted her head up, giving him access to her neck. He explored her skin, a sense of desperation inside of him that she’d never experienced before.

He touched her like he wasn’t sure he’d ever get the chance again.

And there was nothing she could say that would convince him that everything was okay. She had to show him.

He had to feel it.

Oliver tugged on her shirt, and she lifted her arms, allowing him to lift it up and over her body. He threw it across the room, leaning down and sucking one of her breasts into his mouth. She cried out, angling her body up and into his mouth as her hips rocked against his. She could feel his erection beneath her, grinding against it and soaking the material of his boxers. He groaned as she circled her hips over him, his hands gripping her back and pulling her closer. He released her breast, moving his mouth up her chest, his breath uneven as it warmed her skin, breathing her in like he was desperate to remember every part of her.

She pushed at the waist of his boxers. Oliver lifted his hips, picking her up with him and she pulled them off.

As she settled back onto his lap, Oliver didn’t hesitate before he thrusted inside of her. “Oh,” she moaned, grabbing onto him as he lifted his hips from the floor to push into her. She ground her hips against him, and he groaned back. “I love you,” she mumbled, wrapping both of her arms around him. She lifted her hips and dropped them back down.

“ _Oh_ god,” Oliver moaned, “I love you, Felicity.” He moved his face from her neck to her chest, running his lips over her body, between her breasts, kissing and sucking a path on her skin.

Felicity whimpered, still sore from the promise he’d had no problem keeping as soon as they'd gotten home earlier that night. She wasn’t even sure how either of them were moving after the hours they’d spent in bed, their reunion rushed and frantic before they'd fallen asleep in each other's arms, exhausted.

After nearly a month without him, it felt like heaven to have him inside of her again, but this was just as euphoric; she felt needed, desired, and so close to him after everything he’d told her. She could _feel_ how much he loved her because of it.

Somehow it felt different than before. Deeper. She felt more connected to him than she ever had, and it was turning her on beyond belief. “Oliver!” She screamed.

“I have you,” Oliver grunted from beneath her, thrusting into her again. She wasn't sure if he was telling her or himself, but she didn't care. He did. In every sense, he had her.

She jolted as he adjusted her, pulling her body tight against his and standing up. Oliver carried her to the bed and laid her down on it, keeping his eyes locked on hers the whole time. He slipped out of her as he laid her on the pillows and she griped.

Oliver kissed his way up her body, hesitating as he planted soft kisses along her jaw. Felicity wiggled beneath him, her body growing anxious for release.

She whimpered, and Oliver lifted his head from her neck to look down at her. His eyes were wide, something nervous and wild behind his stare. She reached for his face. “Hey, I’m not going anywhere.” She mumbled. He nodded once, and she moved her hips, lifting them off the bed to meet his. “Make love to me, Oliver.” She whispered, watching his eyes roll back as he let out a moan.

With that, Oliver shoved into her. Felicity's legs began to shake, her toes curling as she gripped him. She cried out, and Oliver groaned. He dropped his lips to hers, his mouth devouring her as his hips slammed into her again and again.

She moaned into his mouth, her tongue playing with his. “Oliver,” she sighed, and he pulled his lips away from hers. Oliver let out a breath as he looked down at her, his expression admiring her, gazing down at her in fascination, like he still couldn't believe it was really her. She smiled up at him, nodding as she cupped his face, assuring him that it was all real. Everything they'd been through. "I'm yours," She promised, "I'm not going anywhere."

Oliver sighed, slamming his eyes shut and thrusting into her harder. He gripped her hair in his hands, and she lifted her hips to move with him. She ran her fingers over his arms, soothing the muscles that caged her down on either side of her body and he dropped his face into the crook of her neck, panting against her skin as he pounded into her.

She understood the vulnerability and desperation that he was feeling. She’d felt it when he was gone, when he was…dead. It tore her apart. And that had led her to say some things that she didn’t mean. Like that she didn’t want to be a woman that he loved. She was grateful that he hadn’t let her walk away after that one, because she knew she would have regretted it. She’d walked away from him before, it was one of the biggest mistakes she’d ever made.

All she really wanted was to be the _only_ woman that he loved.

Maybe forever.

Oliver consumed her; the way he looked at her, the way he spoke to her...it filled voids inside of her that no one had ever filled. She was enthralled in the way that he loved her; how he said it and showed it, how he’d forced her to feel that deep kind of love even when she was afraid of it.

She’d never felt anything like that. So passionate that it felt like he had sparked a fire inside of her. And in many ways, he had. Her life had felt hollow before him. Now she felt whole, she shared every part of her life with him and she didn’t want it any other way.

He was the most passionate person she had ever met, and she felt lucky that he was passionate about _her_. Everything he did was intense, and exciting, and raw…and he loved her in the same way.

She turned her face towards him, feeling so lost in him that she couldn’t open her eyes. She smelled him, running her nose through his hair. She pressed her cheek against his, feeling him instinctively nestle her back, his hands caressing her hair.

She felt her climax suddenly, and Oliver cried out as her walls tightened around him, pulsing and pulling him in. They could both feel her climbing, about to fall over the edge. He kept his face buried in her neck, but his hips started moving faster. He slammed into her once, twice, three more times and she was falling.

She cried out, her hands on his waist, pulling him into her as her mouth nestled into his shoulder, biting it harder than she’d intended.

Oliver didn’t seem to notice or mind. He picked his head up, and she opened her eyes to look at him. Oliver grunted, gently bringing his forehead to rest against hers. “I love you,” He whispered.

She closed her eyes, humming in satisfaction and just feeling him, listening to his soft grunts and panting as he lost himself in her body, starting to move inside of her again. She bit her lip, enjoying the dull, tender aftershocks he was causing. She could almost feel him becoming himself again. After everything he’d been through…her heart swelled as she realized that she was healing him.

 “ _Felicity_ ,” he moaned, his eyebrows creasing.

Felicity picked her head up, trailing kisses over his cheeks. She ran her hands over his arms where they caged her in, feeling safe and protected and warm underneath him. “I love you, Oliver. More than anything.” She whispered, dragging her lips along his jaw.

“ _Felicity_!” He cried out, his cock jerking as he emptied himself inside of her. Her name fell from his lips like a prayer, his breath ragged. She stared up at him, watching the pleasure and satisfaction on his face as his muscles shook. 

His lips met hers mindlessly as he came down. "Thank you," He mumbled, catching his breath.

Felicity welcomed his weight when he adjusted himself so that he wasn’t crushing her. She hummed as she relaxed beneath him, spreading her legs for him to settle between them. Her eyelids started to feel heavy and she let them close, completely satisfied and happy. 

“You’re welcome. Call me anytime you need me to blow your mind.” She smiled, her eyes still shut as he kissed her cheek.

She heard him chuckle, his head resting against her chest. Felicity wrapped both arms around his neck, splaying her hands across his back, fighting off sleep as she ran her hands over his skin, feeling the protruding scars of his past.

She traced the marks, using her fingers to sooth the muscles that needed her attention. She kissed his head, inhaling the familiar, amazing scent of him that she’d been missing for weeks. The man she didn't have to miss anymore.


	7. Season Four: Oliver

It was after they decided to stay in Starling.

Their friends needed their help, and as much as he hated it, Felicity was right. He was still going to mope about it, though. He knew that he should try to hide his disappointment for her sake, he just couldn't help it. Oliver stood in the empty living room of the place that felt like home. The house in Ivy Town was full of only good memories; soft touches in the morning, playful dinners, and afternoon naps. There wasn't one memory left in that house that didn't make him smile.

The walls hadn't heard a single argument that didn't end in moaning or laughter. He'd be lying if he said that he wasn't sad to leave it. Felicity knew how he felt, and he didn't see the point in hiding it from her. Starling was their home...but this place... this house was his dream. It was perfect. Living in it with her had healed every wound he'd suffered, every nightmare he'd weathered and every torment he'd ever endured.

Felicity came up behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist while he looked out of the window into the backyard, standing in the now vacant living room. "I'm going to miss this house." She whispered, pressing her lips against his spine.

He turned his head in her direction, letting out a deep sigh as he heard the sincere emotion in her voice. She had been the one that wanted to leave. They both knew that he was happier here than he'd ever been, but he also knew that Starling, or Star City, as they were now calling it, needed them. That city meant everything to him, and he wanted to protect it. He was ready to do it.

But he just wanted another moment to stand in the house that had seen the best days he'd ever lived. Appreciate it like those memories deserved. And she stood silently behind him, skimming her lips across his back and hugging him tightly. 

The moving company had already left with the trucks full of their furniture and boxes to move into the loft. They had a car full of the rest of their belongings, and they were meant to be following right behind the trucks.

"Someday, Oliver..." Felicity whispered lowly, her hands flattening on his stomach, "Someday, someone is going to take your place. You won't be The Green Arrow forever. All of that hope you were talking about during your broadcast...it's going to inspire other people, and they're going to want to save Star City just like you do."

He nodded slowly, keeping his gaze on the darkening sky as she sighed. He ran his fingers over her bare arms, watching as a chill ran through her. "What are you going to do on that day?" She asked quietly.

"On the day that I stop being The Green Arrow?" Oliver asked. He felt Felicity nod, and he turned around to look at her. Brushing her hair back to expose her shoulders, he ran his fingers over her smooth skin, focusing his gaze on the contact. "I'm going to get in a car with you again, and we're going to drive off into the sunset. And we're going to be happy."

Felicity's eyes softened, and she nodded, "I want to come back here."

"To Ivy Town?"

"To this house." She said. He raised an eyebrow. "It's ours," She lifted her shoulders, "I officially bought it."

"Felicity..."

He didn't want to have that hope hanging over their heads. What if they couldn't survive Darhk? Or the stress of being vigilantes again? What if they had only been able to be happy together because they'd left Starling? He wasn't sure what coming back would mean for them. And it terrified him. It was a concern that he was too afraid to mention to her. It was the very reason he had an engagement ring hidden in one of the boxes in the car instead of on her finger. They needed to know if they could do this, survive this...and he wasn't sure that keeping roots in Ivy Town was the best way to do that.

Felicity shook her head, her hands flattening over his back as she stepped closer and looked up at him. "It's _ours_ , Oliver. This will always be our place. And I want to come back to it someday."

"That..." He sighed, "that could be a very long time from now."

"Oliver," she said, holding his gaze. "We can rent it out for University kids until we're ready," she said with a shrug. "And we can always sell it if we change our minds. But I love this house. I could see..." She hesitated, biting her lip. "I know we never talked about it, but I could see a _future_ with you here."

He held his breath, knowing exactly what she meant. They'd moved into a suburb, a neighborhood full of families, with neighbors who came over for brunch and exchanged cooking secrets. They'd been happy just the two of them, enjoying the peaceful, quiet town where nothing ever happened. But it was the kind of place where you moved when you wanted to start a family...

"Sometimes I'd sit on that kitchen counter in the morning," she said, gesturing to the area beside them, "and I would just picture it. How our days would be, what this place would look like with mini versions of us running around here," She breathed out a laugh.

He was suddenly kissing her, dragging her body against his. She let our a surprised moan, gripping his shirt and pulling him closer. "Wow," She smiled against his mouth, "I didn't think talking about having your children was going to be a turn-on. You know, sometimes it freaks men out to think about having a family, and I didn't know if your head was really in that place and-"

He growled, turning her around as he crushed his lips against her, pushing her backwards until he had her pinned against the cool sliding glass door. "You've never mentioned that you thought about that," He groaned into her mouth.

She smiled, pulling back to speak, and laughing when his eager lips just fell to her throat. "I wouldn't have wasted all of this time with you if I didn't think about a future, Oliver." Oliver nodded quickly into her neck, knowing that she was talking about a distant future, not tomorrow...but he was hard.

The idea of having kids with her someday actually made his dick hard. Who was he?

Oliver pulled back to look at her, and she bit her lip, a bright smile playing across her face. She grabbed at his hips and yanked him closer, wiggling between his body heat pressing into her front and the cold glass behind her. "I've thought about it too, Felicity." He whispered.

"Mmm," she raised an eyebrow, nipping at his bottom lip as her hand dropped to his pants, unbuttoning them and slipping her hand inside. 

Oliver moaned, rocking his hips into her hand, reaching to pull the zipper down.

He knew that they were supposed to be at the loft soon, but he needed to take his time, he needed to show her what life with him would be like for her. Every day. He wanted to put that engagement ring on her finger more than anything, especially after these little confessions.

He belonged to her. He'd given everything to her, and he'd carefully accepted and protected the pieces that she gave him in return, one by one. She'd done it slowly at first, letting him in day by day. But then she'd left Starling with him...she'd jumped in with both feet and hadn't looked back. And he loved her so much for taking that chance, for not letting her fears get in the way. She belonged to him, too.

He began to feel the familiar fire he felt to possess her, the desire climbing its way through his body.

"Do you remember when I had you right here?" He asked lowly, rolling his hips against hers and pushing her ass into the glass even more.

Felicity's breath caught as his words had their intended effect.

He wanted her to picture the memory.

It had been during their first week in Ivy Town, when screwing her everywhere in the house was necessary. It became a game for them, trading who got to decide which surface they fucked on next. When he'd come home one day and found her in the living room naked, he was grateful that they had a well covered back yard, with a nice fence and trees...or else their neighbors would have gotten quite the show. She'd bent over and said something like _"I want to watch the sunset"_ before she wiggled her hips and pressed her palms against the glass, waiting for him.

Felicity pushed on him now, a devilish grin crossing her face as she stepped away. "Where are you going?" He asked, feeling a pang of disappointment as she walked away. He'd been hoping for a repeat.

She looked at him over her shoulder before swiftly removing her shirt and dropping it on the floor. She made her way to the stairs leading up to the bedroom. He was about to sarcastically remind her that there wasn't a bed up there anymore, when she stopped on the steps. 

Oliver followed her to the stairs, but stayed at the bottom of them, watching her as she smiled down at him. "What about here?" She asked, playing the same "trip down memory lane" game that he'd initiated. He groaned.

Felicity slowly unbuttoned her jeans, kicking her shoes off and letting them fly down the steps. She wiggled her hips as she pushed her jeans down her legs. "Do you remember what we did on these stairs, Oliver?"

He did.

With a low growl, he started up the stairs but she let out a playful noise of protest. He hesitated in the middle of the staircase when she took another step higher, moving away from him. "I sat down right here," she said, bending down to sit on the top step, as if he needed a reminder of _that_  day. "And you..." she said, sliding her underwear down her hips and over her legs.

He gripped the railing tightly on either side of him, holding himself back so that he could watch the show she was giving him. She kicked her leg out, letting go of the panties she'd had on her foot. "And you..." She mumbled again.

His gaze dropped as her panties hit his chest and fell to the step underneath him. Silently, he glanced down at them before bending over to pick them up and stuff them in his pocket. That night had also had clothes flying all over the house, both of them too eager to make it up to the bed.

When he looked back up at her, her legs were spread wide, giving him an incredible view. "Oh god, Felicity," he breathed.

"Remind me again what you did to me on these stairs, Oliver..." she said jokingly, "I seem to have forgotten. Come refresh my memory, baby."

He groaned, closing the distance two stairs at a time and dropping to his knees in front of her. With his face level to her center, he ran his tongue between her folds. "You didn't forget," he grumbled, "I took care of you."

"Mmm," she sighed, her fingers finding his hair just as they had that night, just as they did every time he had his face between her thighs. She leaned back with a sigh, her hands gripping his hair in tight fists. Oliver groaned, half in pain and half in arousal. Felicity's head fell back, her chest arching up and her fingers skimming against one of her hard nipples. Oliver pushed his tongue inside of her and ran one hand up her body to palm her breast, nudging her hand so that he could touch her. She put her hand on top of his, grabbing his fingers as he gripped her breast in his hand.

She looked down at him, squeezing his fingers, and he lifted his hand up to lace his fingers through hers, giving her something to hold on to.

Then he hummed.

He knew how much she loved it. How she felt his voice rumble through her core whenever he did it. It might have been on those very stairs that he'd discovered the trick and how she responded to it. He was rewarded with her alluring cries now just as he was then. 

"I love how you taste," he murmured, wrapping his lips around her clit and sucking. He could feel her legs beginning to shake and _god_ , those were his favorite orgasms. It didn't always happen, only when she was aroused and wanting before he even touched her, only when he built her up slowly. Her legs would tremble in anticipation.

Oliver heard her whimper, instinctively pulling his face closer to her, begging for more. But he slowed down just as her thighs quivered under his hands again, and her head snapped up to look at him, her eyes opening. He released his mouth from her clit and she huffed, her fingers tightening in his hair before she let him go. 

Oliver wiped his chin, covered in her essence already. He held her gaze, and she didn't speak, trusting him completely. He saw the question in her eyes, wondering why he'd stopped, but she smiled, knowing that he was going to make it worth it. 

He smiled back, tossing her legs over his shoulders. She moaned loudly when he dropped his hands to her ass and squeezed. Her head fell back, expecting his lips to find their place again, but he hiked her up, lifting her off the stairs. Felicity yelped, her hands flying to his hair to steady herself, her thighs tensing around his face. 

Oliver held her close, his fingers gripping her hips tightly. When he was certain that she was secure, he pushed off of his knees, standing up. "Oh!" Felicity breathed. He looked up at her, having to tilt his chin all the way upward. She looked down at him with a smile on her face. "Well this is new."

"I thought we could make some new memories before we go." He said gently.

Felicity bit her lip and smiled, her thighs resting on his shoulders and her hands holding his hair so tightly that he knew it would hurt later. "This will definitely not be forgotten."

"Good," he mumbled, making his way down the stairs. "Now don't squirm around."

She let out a breathy laugh, "You wouldn't drop me-" He cut her off, lifting her up a little more until his lips could reach her clit again. "Oh my god!" She cried out as his tongue appreciated her taste, her hips bucking against his face, her legs wiggling for a moment.

Oliver quickly wrapped both of his arms around her, keeping her steady before he pulled back to glance up at her. He raised an eyebrow. She didn't bother with a response, her hands eagerly pulling his face back downward, trying to move his mouth back to where she needed it.

He chuckled, loving when she got that look on her eyes, focused on him... _needing_ him. He obliged, opening his mouth to lick her center again.

He carried her into the kitchen as he teased her, carefully laying her down on the island in the middle of the room. Her hips jerked against his mouth, "Oh, Oliver," she whispered, "I need to come, please, _please_..." He felt himself hardening as she begged, and he groaned with his mouth still wrapped around her, causing her to let out a sharp scream, his name falling from her lips.

Oliver held her thighs between his hands, pushing them tighter against his face as she writhed on the stone counter. He savored the way her legs trembled around him, wanting to remember this, one last time before they had to go.

"Oh," he moaned, "God, you're perfect, Felicity. So damn perfect." His voice was strained, but he didn't pull away from her, letting the vibration from his throat as he spoke fuel her. "I love this body," he sighed. "Come, Felicity. Come for me."

And she did, her legs straightening as she moaned, her muscles quivering against his face. He didn't give a damn if they should have been at the loft thirty minutes ago by now, the sight in front of him was well worth it. Oliver kept his mouth between her thighs as she came down, feeling her body relax.

"I love these legs..." he said lazily, squeezing her thighs. Felicity's eyes lulled open. "I love this taste," he said gently, pressing a final kiss to her sex before his lips traveled upward. "I love this stomach, and these breasts." He kissed each one where they were practically out of her bra completely. "This neck..." He said, stopping to suck on it the same way he'd sucked on her clit. 

"Mmm," She sighed, sounding utterly satisfied as she slid her hands over every inch of him that she could reach. "I love how much you love it."

Oliver smiled, feeling his heart warming as she stayed exactly how she was, sprawled out on the counter, too tired to move. She knew that there wasn't a freckle on her body that he didn't worship, or a centimeter of her skin that he didn't feel lucky to get to touch every day. He'd made sure of that. He'd always made sure that she knew, never hesitating to tell her exactly what he thought about her.

"We should really get going," he said finally, keeping his eyes on her face as she caught her breath. Her skin was flushed, but her face was relaxed and fulfilled...happily fucked. He couldn't help but feel a sense of pride. She'd told him once that sex with him was the best that she'd ever had, and he'd said the same without a moment's hesitation.

He didn't even need to think about it. It was her. Hands down. Since the first moment that he'd pushed himself inside of her, nearly four years ago in her apartment, there was no comparison. He'd tried to explain it to her once, how it wasn't just the _physical_ connection that made it so good between them, but every other connection as well. His every sense keyed into hers. He'd offered that it was the _emotional_ connection, but even that felt wrong. It was something so deep and so pure that he couldn't describe it.

And the fact that it happened nearly every day was mind blowing to him.

He'd never been with her and _not_ felt that connection, like they were literally one.

It was always strongest when he was inside of her, a fiery feeling in his soul that he was certain had inspired ideas such as true love and fairy tales. The feeling was unreal. The rest of the world just didn't exist anymore. It was all about her.

And there were, of course, the smaller moments, like tonight, that made him feel completely satisfied even when she didn't touch him. He'd never felt that way before. Seeing her come, knowing that he was the one to bring her so much pleasure...it was satisfying in a way he'd never thought was possible. But there were also quiet, innocent moments when he would feel it, that spark deep inside of him. Sometimes just the way she'd look at him, say his name, or touch his face...and he'd feel like he could love her forever.

He knew he could. 

It was bliss that he'd never known existed. Never experienced. After so much pain in his life, he didn't know that he was capable of love like this until he was heels over head in it. And he was certain that it was all Felicity's fault, that he'd never feel that strongly, that passionate, with anyone else but her. Ever.

"I love you," he whispered, " _so_ damn much."

Felicity pushed herself onto her elbows to look down at him, and he picked his head up from her stomach. She ran her hand over his face, skimming her thumb across his bottom lip. "I love you too," She whispered. "I've never loved anyone like this," She sighed.

Oliver groaned, climbing onto the counter with her and kneeling between her legs. He pressed his palms against the surface on either side of her head. "Felicity," he said, staring down at her. She immediately reached her hands up to his face, her eyes softening as she looked up at him. 

"Yes?"

"You know that I choose you, right?"

She rolled her eyes playfully, "Sure, the driving off into the sunset was a good hint. And then asking me to rent a house with you made me pretty certain. And now you're giving this up because I want to be back in Starling...I'd say you've done enough to let me know that you choose me, Oliver."

"Every day?"

Her eyebrows furrowed, "Of course. I feel it every day, Oliver. And it's amazing."

Oliver nodded once, "Good." He reached down and took her left hand, holding it in his and looking down at her fingers. "Someday I'm going to want a ring on this hand, Felicity." He said gently, pausing when he noticed her her inhale. "I don't want you to be afraid of that."

Felicity's eyes moved between his, a slow smile forming. "You think I'd say no?" She asked teasingly.

When he just shrugged, her smile fell, her eyebrows coming together in confusion again. "I'm not afraid of it, Oliver." She said slowly. "I want that... I want this, I want you. Forever."

His eyes darted to hers. "Yeah?" Felicity nodded, pulling his face down to kiss him. "Forever." He repeated the word, which was basically a foreign language to him. He'd never promised a girl forever. Never even considered it. He hadn't even wanted to promise anyone _next week._ Forget about forever.

But with her... he found comfort in the word, in the reality that she had the same dreams as him.

She smiled into his lips, and he lowered his body on top of hers gently, moving his hips against hers. "You know," she murmured, her legs falling open so she could feel his erection where she wanted it. "this isn't quite right."

Shoving on his shoulders, she pushed him until his back was against the counter and she was climbing on top. They both groaned. A little too much time was spent on top of an uncomfortable surface, but neither of them protested. 

He could remember the night that she'd ridden him like that, in the middle of their kitchen. They'd pretty much had sex _everywhere_ in that kitchen, and he didn't pick favorites when it came to those memories...but the night he'd caught her eating ice cream at 3:00am, two months after they'd moved in, was definitely one for the books.

_Oliver hadn't been able to sleep. She'd texted to say she was on her way back forty minutes ago, and she still wasn't home. He'd grown used to spending all of his time with her ever since they left Starling, so it was a strange feeling to not be away from her for so many hours at once. It was also 3:00 in the morning and she had gone out with a bunch of middle aged mothers from the neighborhood after Laura Hoffman cornered her into joining them for their book club, yet she still wasn't home._

_He sighed, turning over and checking his phone again, feeling slightly irritated that she hadn't texted to tell him that she was going to be later than expected. With a huff, he typed out a text message, not wanting to be overbearing but starting to get worried about her._

_Oliver: You okay?_

_Felicity: Baby, have you ever tried mint chocolate chip ice cream? I love mint chocolate chip ice cream._

_Oliver: You're eating ice cream? I thought every store in Ivy Town closed at 5:00._

_Felicity: Huh. The grocery store was open when I bought it last week. That was before 5:00. They do close really early around here, don't they? Not the bars though. Those were very much open. This is a college town though, maybe that's why?_

_Oliver: Are you okay? Where are you?_

_Felicity: Do you think ice cream would be too cold to lick off of someone's abs?_

_He felt a flash of annoyance that he had no idea where she was and she wasn't answering his question._

_Oliver: Felicity, what are you talking about? Whose abs? Where are you?_

_Felicity: Don't get your panties in a bunch. I want to lick ice cream off of you. Obviously. Your abs. You have amazing abs. Do I tell you that enough? God, I love them._

_He huffed, still slightly annoyed but unable to deny the tiny jerk he felt in his pants._

_Oliver: Tell me where you are._

_Felicity: Are you mad? You seem mad._

_Oliver: A little bit. You're not answering my question. Where are you?_

_Felicity: I'm not answering because I don't understand what you're asking! I'm here! What do you mean where am I!?_

_Oliver: In the house?_

_Felicity: Yeah._

_Oliver hopped out of bed with a huff and made his way down the stairs. He wasn't sure why she was texting him if she was home, or why she didn't come upstairs, knowing that he was waiting for her. But he tried to let it go, knowing that part of the problem was that he was tense after being away from her all night. He just wasn't used to it. And he could also tell that she was drunk. She tended to be a little absentminded when she got drunk enough._

_As he came into the kitchen, he saw Felicity sitting on the counter by the fridge, a carton of ice cream in one hand and a spoon in the other. She had on the adorable cotton shorts she'd worn out earlier, the ones that made her ass impossible for him not to touch. But her shirt was gone. He noticed it lying across the couch and he breathed out a laugh, picturing her stumbling into the house and immediately pulling it off and throwing it there. She always got hot when she drank hard alcohol, so he imagined she must have had a fun night with the book club._

_His irritation immediately fell away as he looked at her. Felicity stared at him with her spoon still in her mouth, and he shook his head._ _She was fucking adorable, and he loved it._

_"Hey," he said gently, opening a drawer and pulling out a spoon for himself. He sidled up next to her, his hip rubbing against her leg._

_She narrowed her eyes as she held out the ice cream for him, and he took a bite."You're grumpy." She said, waving her spoon in his face._

_Oliver's brows furrowed, and he shook his head. "I'm not grumpy, honey." He promised, bending down to kiss her shoulder. "I was just worried about you."_

_"Oh...I'm sorry. I'm a little..." She waved her hand above her head._

_"Mm-hm," he smiled, picking his head up to get another bite of ice cream. "I know. I didn't think book club would be so wild."_

_Felicity let out a breath, her cheeks puffing as her eyes widened. "Oh," she shook her head, "Those women are crazy." Oliver laughed as she stared at him with a scared expression. "It's like they're only let out of the house once a month, which I'm pretty sure it true, actually. They tell their husbands that they're just going to have a glass a wine and talk about the book they read but..." she released another breath, "Man, they're little energizer bunnies. I was the youngest one there and I was ready to fall asleep three hours ago."_

_Oliver chuckled, "Did you have fun?"_

_She shrugged, "After a few glasses of wine, I just started to really want to come home and eat ice cream." His heart jumped as it usually did whenever she'd refer to the house as home. "Then they ordered rum buckets," She sighed. Oliver raised an eyebrow as she glanced down his chest, "I missed you. I was bored and I got to thinking..."_

_He held his breath, "Thinking about what?"_

_Felicity smirked, "What I always think about when I'm bored. Specifically, though, I was considering how amazing it would be if you laid me down on that island over there and..." She bit her lip, setting the ice cream aside and leaning towards him. He kissed her back when her lips met his, and she mumbled, "Why don't I just show you what I had in mind."_

_Oliver hesitated for a moment, tasting the sweet and minty ice cream on her tongue. Then she slowly lifted her arms up and put them around his shoulders. When he realized that she was waiting for him to pick her up and carry her over to the island, he groaned._ _Felicity glanced down at his cock, seeing that he was already hard. She smirked up at him, that drunk and horny look in her eye. "I wonder how good it would taste if I licked it off your..."_

_He felt a jolt as his dick twitched, catching her eyes widen as she noticed too, and he slammed his eyes shut. He imagined that ice cream would be a little too cold to feel good...but with her warm lips wrapped around him, sucking it off..._

_He quickly pulled her chest to his, lifting her off the counter and dropping his face between her breasts. She squealed, reaching out to grab the ice cream before he spun her around and laid her down on the island._

Felicity climbed over him in the dark kitchen, straddling his lap and looking down at him with a smirk. "Wish we had some ice cream," she mumbled, her voice thick.

Oliver moaned, remembering the way she'd licked it off his chest that night. Her mouth sucked at his chest now, covering his skin with hickeys, marking him. She tugged his pants down, just enough to let his cock spring free. Felicity pumped him a few times in her hand, and then she rubbed his dick against her center, covering him in her essence and sighing as he slipped between her thighs. She continued the movements, drawing him in and rubbing the tip of his cock against her entrance. She ground her hips down over and over, stopping just as he was about to slide into her each time, until he couldn't take it anymore. "Felicity," He sighed, his hips jerking up towards her. "Inside of you..." he murmured, "Please."

She looked down at him and smiled, and he began to feel the familiar heat in his chest before she even lowered herself onto him. But once he was buried deep, he felt it all over his body.

That unbeatable connection.

That awareness that she could sense his every move, his ever desire, and his every need. Everything else fell away, and he was perfectly sure that nothing mattered except for her.

Oliver recognized that she was giving all of herself to him, just as she did every time he was inside of her. And he made sure to take good care of her, to give just as much of himself back. 

Felicity's walls squeezed around him as he thrusted up and into her, her beautiful body moving gracefully above him. All thoughts of time, of where they were, and of the uncomfortable stone counter beneath his back were gone.

It was just her. 

He stared up at her as he always did; her eyes closed and her mouth open as she rode him. It was a sight that he knew would ever get old. One that he could never get tired of seeing. She let herself go completely; for him, with him, because of him. And it was beautiful to watch. He plunged into her leisurely, wanting to prolong it as long as possible, make her feel as good as he possibly could. His thumb found her clit, and he started to rub slowly. "Oliver," she cried, her nails digging into his chest painfully and her hips writhing down against his. "Please, please, please," she breathed.

When she finally came, he felt her walls squeeze tighter around him, watching her climax. Seeing it made him follow right behind her. And he came deep inside of her as she collapsed on top of him, driving her hips against his in a sluggish movement, draining him. "Wow," she breathed into his neck as he came down, "That's up there."

He stared up at the ceiling, his brow furrowing. "What?"

She picked her head up and ran her mouth from his ear to his chin, following along his jaw as she caught her breath. "For the best sex."

He chuckled, bringing his hands to her hips as they both felt him softening inside of her, and they each groaned, totally spent. "It's always that good, Felicity, and you know it."

"Yeah, but that was...wow." She sighed happily, and he grinned when she started covering his face in kisses.

"It was the perfect way to say goodbye to this place."


	8. Season Four: Felicity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I first started this story way back in JUNE, this chapter was my original idea. And then I thought it might be fun to give Oliver and Felicity alternating chapters throughout the whole series. But fun fact, I actually started here! Just imagine the impatience of a scatter-brained writer, waiting to finally post this one! :p  
> I hope you guys like it, and please let me know what you think!!

It was after Laurel's funeral.

Felicity made her way down the steps, moving slowly into the bunker. She knew that he was there.

Of course, he was there.

After the funeral, the limo had dropped her off at home, and he'd left. Part of her had been hoping he'd ask to stay, but of course he didn't. She'd made it quite clear where they stood.

Felicity carried guilt, and a lot of regret. And Oliver did, too. Sitting alone in her apartment had been unbearable. The silence there, being there without him, was crushing.

Her friend was dead. Their friend. The woman that Oliver had loved for half his life was gone, and she couldn't stop thinking that maybe if she had been there, if she had been watching from the prison's security cameras, that she could have changed something. The thought was heavy, but knowing that Oliver was so close, that he was hurting, and there wasn't anything she could do... it made it all worse. 

She was still so angry at him, but her heart and her head were tired of being angry. If she had her way... if everything, for once, had worked out the way she wanted it to, she'd be curled up in bed with Oliver, letting him hold her and holding him right back. They'd be together, and she knew she would find comfort in him. Comfort that she couldn't get anywhere else.

It was always him, and it always would be.

That was the way it should have been. That was the way she had believed it was meant to be. With her whole heart. 

Getting the phone call on the night of the prison attack had been the most terrifying moment of her life. She'd actually thrown up in her office, her whole body being taken over by fear and nerves. The fact that it could have been him put a selfish fear into her heart that she'd never felt before. She couldn't shake the relief she'd felt when she found out that he was okay. It only made the guilty pain in her chest ache even more.

John had called her, and as soon as she heard his voice, she'd known that something was very, very wrong. And her heart had dropped into her stomach, nausea raking through her whole body because she assumed it was Oliver. She'd been afraid to lose him ever since the day she met him, and she thought the day had finally come. As soon as she hung up the phone, her head was in the trash can, emptying her stomach's contents. Just the thought... And then she'd gone to the hospital and forgotten everything she'd been upset about. Seeing Oliver standing in the hospital hallway, looking lost, and hurt... she'd clutched on to him without apologies.

When John had told her that Laurel was in the hospital, that it was her who had been hurt by Darhk, she'd actually felt _relieved_. 

Felicity knew it wasn't fair to feel that way. And she felt horrible for it, but she couldn't help it. 

It wasn't him. He was still there. He was okay, and in that moment, everything about his lies, his deceit, the choices he'd made, seemed irrelevant. She'd spent the rest of the time at the hospital staring at him over stale coffee, unable to look away. It'd been so close. She'd almost lost him. And what would she have done, if he had died? 

He hadn't... but Laurel had.

She wanted to grieve her friend. She wanted to wallow in her own guilt, her own mistakes and the choices she'd made that led her to quit the team. Leaving them had felt selfish, but it didn't compare to how awful she felt for the thoughts she'd been having. She _needed_ him, her whole body had been aching to hold him ever since the hospital. She just wanted to sit with him, to touch him, to feel his heart beating under her hands, to hear his voice, to find comfort in the warm feel of his hands on her. 

But it wasn't fair to ask for that. He was grieving too, and he had so much more to worry about. He was doing his best to help Lance with everything, and the last thing she wanted was to put more on his plate. 

Being in her apartment alone though, she'd stopped caring. If he still loved her like she loved him, then he needed her just as much. 

As the elevator opened, Felicity saw Oliver pacing by the door, probably waiting when he heard the elevator coming. He looked prepared to tell whoever came out of it to go right back where they came from and leave him alone. His eyes were wide, and just so _sad_. "Felicity..." He breathed, his face dropping in relief as he stepped towards her. But then he stopped, shoving his hands into his pockets and glancing away. "What are you doing here?"

"It could have been you." She choked.

Oliver's brow furrowed as he stared at her, seeing how upset she was. And Felicity stared back, tears fogging her vision. He was still dressed in his black tux, reminding her of where they'd just been, who they'd had to say goodbye to. She looked down at her own dress. She'd been in too much of a rush to get to him, she hadn't bothered to change either.

As soon as she'd seen him pulling away in the limo, his head in his hands, she knew he'd be coming here, and she'd only taken the time to get her keys before she followed him. The thought of him sitting down here, alone, like he was waiting to die just like Laurel... like he expected it... was too much.

"What?" He whispered, moving to her, now that she'd taken the first step towards him. He raised his hands to touch her face, because it was the most natural thing in the world, but he stopped himself, shoving his hands back into his pockets with a little more force this time.

"Our friend died. We just had to bury her, Oliver. It's _Laurel_."

He closed his eyes, "I know."

She inhaled a shaky breath, stepping towards him until she was only inches away, waiting for him to look at her. When he finally opened his eyes, she could see all of the pain and regret behind them, and she knew it wasn't just about Laurel. He was a man with a lot of regrets. A man with so much weight on his shoulders. "It was my fault, Oliver."

He shook his head, knowing her well enough to expect this. "No, it wasn't."

"I should have been here. I should have been _here_."

"Felicity," he mumbled, shaking his head, "There was nothing... _nothing_ that any of us could have done that night. I never should have let Laurel get involved in this."

She choked on a sob, "I'm so sorry, Oliver."

He didn't hesitate to reach for her this time, taking her face between his hands and pulling her to his chest. "This is not on you, honey. It's not."

"I just can't stop... it could have been you," she cried, gripping his shirt.

"Hey..." he whispered, cradling her head, his lips pressing to her temple. "I'm fine, I'm right here."

"It could have been you." She said again.

"Felicity, I'm okay," he soothed, holding her tighter, closer.

She pulled back to look up at him, emotion swamping her as she looked into his eyes, a crippling weight hitting her ever since she realized what Darhk could have taken from her. What would she do, how would she even _function_ if it had been him? If that night had been the last time she'd ever seen his eyes... ever felt his arms around her like this. She choked on her breath as she realized that losing him was her greatest fear.

It was way too much to think about. It was crippling.

Oliver was leaning down to her, probably just trying to whisper into her ear like he usually did to soothe her, and she kissed him without another thought. She crushed her lips to his and heard his sharp, surprised inhale. He kissed her back for a moment, but she could feel him stiffen, and then he pulled away. "Felicity..." He let out a deep breath, his eyes wavering as he watched her. She stood in front of him, crying and kissing him, and she could see how hard it was for him not to give her the comfort that she craved. God, she wanted it. She wanted him. But she could see his hesitation, his worry that she wasn't thinking clearly, that she'd regret coming here. 

He really had no idea how she felt about him anymore. And that broke her heart. To think that they'd once felt such a deep and passionate connection, and now this was where they were. Confused and lonely and no longer on the same page. She'd made sure of that...

"You're upset." He said slowly, "I understand that, but we can't..."

"Oliver," she said, cupping his face between her hands and bringing his forehead down to hers. She squeezed her eyes shut. "Please."

"Felicity..." he breathed, and she could hear his inner turmoil. He felt wrong, maybe like he'd be taking advantage of her grief. Or her guilt.

But how could they be doing anything else? After all of this, after all of this pain, they needed each other. She'd never needed him more.

She'd never needed _anything_ more.

She wanted to feel his warmth, his comfort, the way he made her feel like forever was real. Like they could have had it. His hands came up to grip her wrists, holding her where she was. "Just slow down," he whispered, "I'm right here, I'm not going anywhere, okay? It's okay. I am always, _always_ here for you. Talk to me, Felicity."

She pulled back, stepping away from him, and he let her go, his eyes guarded, like he wasn't sure what she would say. She couldn't stop the tears that kept coming, and she didn't care. She'd felt confused, angry, and hurt ever since John called her, but this... _this_ was clear. Felicity glanced away, and then back to him. She needed to feel him, to finally let him heal her heart in the way that she knew only he was capable of.

She was ready. Hope had clawed its way into her heart again, and she needed to believe that he could bring her back again. That they could make this work. For good. That they could make it through all of this. She never wanted to convince herself to get over him. Never again.

But she was at a loss for words. The emotion of what she was admitting to herself was heavy. She forgave him. And she had to show him.

"I don't want to talk about it, Oliver."

He swallowed, watching her hesitantly as she continued to step away from him. "What do you need, Felicity? Just tell me, and..."

"You." She said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Because it was. "And that's not going to change, Oliver. We can't fix _this_. We can't bring her back. But when John called me..." Felicity gripped her heart, feeling her it seize like it had that night, "I thought it was you. I thought he was calling to tell me that you were dead. And just the thought of losing you..."

Oliver stepped closer, cupping her face in his hands. She closed her eyes, feeling his palms warming her cheeks. "I'm right here, baby. You didn't lose me."

She nodded, "I was _relieved_. I felt... I felt grateful that it hadn't been you, and then Laurel..."

"Oh, Felicity..." He shook his head slowly, his eyes brimming with tears that he refused to let fall. He always thought he had to be strong for everyone else, like he wasn't allowed to grieve. "Come sit..." he said, gesturing to the couches. "Just come talk to me. Please."

She didn't want a conversation. She didn't want to break down, or fall to pieces all over again. "I'm tired of crying, Oliver," she whispered, knowing that her cheeks were wet with tears. 

His eyes flickered, "What do you need, Felicity?" He asked again, and she knew that he would give her whatever it was. That he would always give her everything. How had she lost sight of that?

But she thought she'd made it clear what she wanted.

Felicity slowly reached for the buttons of her coat. "You," she said, dropping her jacket onto her desk. Her shoes came off next, and once she was barefoot, she glanced back up at him. He stared at her, not moving an inch. His eyes were wide with surprise, unsure what to do. " _You_." She said again, not taking her eyes off of his. "I need _you_."

When she reached for the zipper on the side of her dress, he closed his eyes, shaking his head. "I can't, Felicity..." his jaw clenched, "the way you feel right now... it wouldn't be fair. You wouldn't be here right now if..."

"If she didn't die?" Felicity whispered. His eyebrows furrowed, his face looking just as broken as she felt. She waited for him to open his eyes again, and then she pulled her zipper all the way down. "You're probably right." She pulled the dress down over her shoulders, exposing her bra, and he glanced away, putting his hands on his hips. "But I need you, Oliver. I can't stop thinking... about feeling you... how your heart races when I touch you, and the way you kiss me, and how right it feels to be in your arms." She said. "Don't you feel it, too, Oliver? Don't you just feel..." She swallowed, "like you need me, somewhere deep down?"

Her voice was vulnerable, only adding to the fact that she was now in her underwear, standing in front of him while he was fully dressed.

Oliver's eyes found hers, his expression torn. "Felicity, the last thing I want is for you to regret... Don't do this because you..." his eyebrows furrowed, searching for the right words. "I won't do this with you when you feeling guilty, or responsible...or vulnerable."

Felicity shook her head, stepping out of her dress completely and kicking it aside. He kept his gaze on her eyes, carefully focusing on not looking down. "Oliver," She whispered to keep her voice from shaking, "I still love you..."

He closed the distance, grabbing her her waist and hauling her against his body. She shivered, feeling his hands warm her skin, just like she'd been desperate to feel. His lips met hers, and she immediately needed _more_.

Groaning, she slipped her hands into his shirt, feeling his scarred skin beneath her fingers and never appreciating it more. His heart began to beat faster beneath her palm as he kissed her, his chest warm and comforting, his whole body welcoming her, inviting her to lean on him, to _need_ him. 

God, she needed him.

He was everything she needed.

Felicity pulled his shirt open, hearing the buttons breaking but neither of them were present enough to care, lost in a kiss that had been denied for way too long.

She pushed his shirt over his arms, her breaths coming out in tiny gasps as he kissed her with everything he had. She could feel it, the same desperation for her that she had for him. His breath mixing with hers, and his skin growing warmer. She knew the need for her was there too, he'd just been bottling it up for the past ten minutes, much better than she'd been. 

Letting out a choked sob as she felt him, felt how much he needed her in his kiss, Oliver pulled back slightly, looking down at her for a moment. She nodded, answering his silent question, his slight hesitation. _Are you sure that this is what you want? Because I'm losing all control._

This was _exactly_ what she needed. What they both needed. "Kiss me," she sighed, "Oliver, please."

Oliver lifted her, carrying her down the steps and towards the back room, but he paused when her hips flexed against his, needing to stop as he pushed her against one of the beams. "Oh, Felicity," he groaned, setting her back on her feet.

Her arms wrapped around his neck, "Closer," she exhaled desperately, "closer, I need you, Oliver. I need to feel you."

Oliver quickly pulled his pants off, kicking them behind him before he caged her between his arms, keeping her pinned against the pillar at the same time that his arms formed around her waist, pulling her to his chest. His lips were on her neck, kissing her pulse point as if he was appreciating the rapid beat of it.

She ran her hands up and down his back, touching his scars. All of the moments that had threatened to take him from her. Her lips played along his shoulder, kissing and nipping at him gently as his hips rolled into hers. She cried out, the pressure of the bulge beneath his boxers pushing against her right where she needed him. "Oliver," she whispered hoarsely, never feeling such an intense need for him as that moment. Her hips jerked against his, the torment of not feeling him moving inside of her was overwhelming, every inch of his skin lighting hers on fire. 

He understood it immediately, swallowing it as he kissed her. Oliver slowed down just long enough to meet her eyes one more time, making sure that the desire was still there, confirming that she wasn't going to regret this. He nodded when he found it in spades. The need she had for him was seen and felt in every part of her body and she knew he could feel it too. He kissed her one more time before he gently pulled her panties down, dragging them over her legs. 

Oliver bent down to help her step out of them, and she rested her arms on his shoulders, feeling the entire moment slow down in an enchanting way. As he slid back up her body, the burning in the pit of her stomach was still there, but she hesitated, taking a moment to look at his face. She ran her fingers over his forehead and down to his cheeks, then she appreciated his nose, his lips, every inch of that face, the one she'd been in love with ever since he walked into her cubicle. The one she was terrified to lose.

Felicity whimpered, and Oliver opened his eyes, leaning down with a sigh to press his forehead to hers. "I love you, Felicity."

She let out another quiet sob, hearing the words she needed to hear, the ones that she knew she still felt, too. Nothing else seemed to matter. At least not for now. They needed this. They both wanted it. And they could have it.

"I love you," she whispered back, skimming her fingers up his neck, over his ears, and into his hair. She gripped it tightly, keeping her face buried in his neck. Part of her was still terrified, shaken to her core, by the idea that it could have been him. "I love you more than anything, Oliver."

He nodded slowly as if he understood exactly what she was saying, and why she was saying it now. He knew better than to push her any further than that. To ask for any promises. But if he had, she would have given them to him. Life had never been more complicated, but this much was true; she loved him more than she'd ever loved anyone. And it was crippling in both the best and worst ways. And she knew that Oliver Queen was going to be the person she spent the rest of her life with. One way or another, it would be him.

She couldn't deny that anymore. Because he was perfect. Besides scaring her to her core, they still had the same obstacles, the same pain standing between them. And she knew that they needed to talk.

But they also _were_ talking _._ They communicated as they always had, at least in her mind. She could feel his desperate need for her, and she felt the exact same way. She could see how much he loved her, right in his eyes. She knew that he was just as ready to move past their baggage as she was.

Lifting onto the balls of her feet so she could reach his mouth, she kissed him again, slower this time, cherishing the way his lips, his whole body, softened under her touch. 

It would never be like this again.

She'd known that ever since the first time he opened himself up to her. She'd known it for so long, but he'd broken her heart... with his lies and his secrets... She'd felt hurt. Betrayed. Yet here he was, holding her, comforting her, and making her feel safer than anyone ever had. He gave her everything she ever needed. And she knew that he'd do anything for her.

He'd die for her.

The thought made her heart stop, her breath choking in her throat. She swallowed back the sob, but he heard it anyway.

Oliver pulled back again, holding her so tenderly, his hands soft as if he was being careful not to break her, as if she was the most precious thing in the world to him. And his eyes were begging her to understand. That look... it was exactly why she needed this so much. She felt protected and loved at the same time that she knew he wasn't going anywhere.

He was here. She could touch him, feel him. He was okay.

She wanted it to be enough. Desperately. She wanted it more than she'd ever wanted anything in her entire life. Oliver's nose rubbed against hers slowly, his hands tightening on her waist like he was trying to keep her there, afraid that she'd run at any moment. "I never meant to hurt you, baby."

Felicity squeezed her eyes shut. "I don't want to talk about it, Oliver." She repeated. "I don't know... I just need you."

He nodded slowly, his face falling for a moment as he looked down at her. "You have every part of me. Always." He said it so honestly, and she knew he meant it. She felt her eyes filling with tears again, and she nodded, blinking them away.

This was what he did. Every time she was hurting, every time she came undone, he was right there to put her back together. She'd been trying to tell herself that it had changed, but here he was. She'd done everything she could to convince herself that they couldn't be together, that they weren't going to fix their problems. 

But being here changed everything. It gave her hope that she'd been refusing to let herself have. Was that why she had come? Maybe it wasn't about healing, or grieving, or reconnecting. Maybe it was about learning that she could still have this. She could still have _him_. 

Maybe it was about hope.

Felicity had been so sure that it was over, so stubborn in shutting him out. She'd needed to believe that it was over because it had hurt. It had hurt so goddamn bad. But the idea of never feeling this again made her feel sick now. There was a new layer of reality to it. Laurel's death reminded her how possible it was that she could lose him. Any night that he was out there, she could lose him. That frightened way she'd pushed him away felt tainted now, destroyed by the harsh truth of what she could actually lose.

"Oliver..." she whispered. "I want you to make love to me."

He opened his eyes, picking his forehead up from hers. "Are you sure?" He whispered, his voice strained.

She nodded, biting her lip as she stared up at him. "Mm," she groaned, reaching between them to slip her hand into his boxers. His eyes rolled closed, and she didn't bother hiding from him. There was no point in masking how much she needed him, knowing that he could see the truth on her face. 

When he didn't move, Felicity pushed his boxers down, and he didn't stop her.

His breaths became shallow as she gripped him in her hand again, stroking him up and down. One hand cupped her cheek, the other gripping her hip, his eyes opening to meet hers. There was something vulnerable and erotic in the moment, the way he refused to look away from her, and she stared back with fascinated eyes, watching his pupils widen.

He was so hard, and she moved her leg to pull him in, running his cock between her folds and moaning. She could feel him slipping in her arousal. She was already so wet, so ready for him, and she wanted to hold on to the moment forever. Her body shivered, her walls pulsing in anticipation, needing him with a desperation that was impossible to wrap her head around.

Oliver stepped closer, lining himself up at her entrance and guiding one of her legs around his waist. She latched onto him, his name falling from her lips as she felt the head of his cock sliding inside of her. "Oh my god," she groaned, remembering his size... her body reacting. It'd been a while, and every part of her was pulling him in, needing him to fill her.

His body caged her against the pillar, his whole body pressed against hers, and he pushed himself all the way in, slipping inside of her easily. Felicity sighed, feeling the strangest sense of peace she'd ever had while being with him.

They both froze for a moment, remembering how absolutely _perfect_ this felt. Oliver kept his gaze locked to hers as they each caught their breaths, and then in agonizing slowness, he pulled out of her.

Felicity moaned loudly, her hips moving against his, wanting him back where he belonged, but he stayed perfectly still, positioned at her entrance. "Oliver..."

She could hear his heavy breaths, she could feel how _right_ it was. It was everything they'd needed. Felicity nodded, struck by the way he was staring at her face, as if he was trying to imprint every inch of it, every tiny second into his brain forever. She shivered, "Oliver," she groaned again, her arms wound around his neck, holding herself as close to him as she could get.

He pushed back into her without warning, filling her completely and closing his eyes when she cried out. "Oh my god." He groaned, "Felicity... you're perfect." He did it again, earning another whimper from her lips. His forehead rested against hers as he created a pace. "I need to remember what you sound like when I'm inside of you...for the rest of my life."

Her walls tensed around him, her eyes closing as his cheek pressed against hers. She could hear his soft breaths in her ear, the tiny, emotional grunts he made as he pushed himself inside of her.

She pressed her face into his neck, "You're everything to me, Oliver. The way that you make me feel... it's the best part of my life." The words fell out of her mouth breathlessly and without any control, whispering to him lowly, desperately, wanting to make him feel as comforted and loved as he'd always made her feel. She heard his breath become shallow, a choked noise escaping his lips where they were pressed to her neck.

His vows from their fake wedding invaded her mind, how he'd said that she was his light. How he'd told her that he was in darkness and she'd made him feel like he deserved the light. She could still remember every word. "You are my always." She breathed, "you're my always. You deserve it, Oliver."

Felicity could hear him choke back a sob, shoving his face further into her neck.

She couldn't stop it, mumbling everything she'd wanted wanted to say, everything he'd needed to hear for weeks now, escaping her throat like the confessions she'd been biting down. Oliver moaned loudly, losing control the longer she word-vomited every embarrassing thing he'd ever made her feel in his ear. "Oh, Felicity," he groaned as he moved inside of her, his arms holding her so tightly that it hurt, and she exhaled, never feeling more reliant on another person.

Felicity was certain that her body would be on the floor if he wasn't holding her up. And that her heart would be there too, if he hadn't been holding it for so long.

Oliver held all of her pieces together, protected them with his life.

He pulled back just enough to fuse his lips to hers, swallowing her moans, accepting every mistake that either of them had made, taking her for exactly who she was.

Her nails dug into his back as she felt herself climbing. So close. And she knew that he could feel it too, that he could sense the tension in her back, the shivers running down her spine. He could feel that barely existent shake in her leg. He knew her body as well as she did. "I love you," He sighed, "I love you so much, Felicity."

She nodded, knowing that it was true. The way he said it was full of the emotion. The way he held her told her everything. 

Oliver pushed her further into the wall as he thrusted in and out of her in a gorgeous rhythm, his forehead coming to rest against hers. And she forced her lids open, seeing the dark shade of his eyes when he opened his, perfectly in sync with her. She watched in wonder, seeing his eyebrow creasing, his breath coming out in short, uneven huffs. "Felicity..."

"Inside me."

He nodded, and then his back stiffened, and his eyes slammed shut, his jaw clenching.

Felicity cried out, feeling him jerk inside of her as he came.

The tiny, pulsing movement as she felt him come inside of her was her undoing. With his cock twitching as she pulsed around him, she followed him over. "Oliver, Oliver, Oliver," she breathed, not knowing what was coming over her, the way she was _talking_ , unable to stop the words that came out of her after so long of bottling it all up. "I love you."

She wanted him to make promises. She wanted him to tell her that they could go back, that they could have this again. That they could have it forever. She wanted to hear him say all of the things he'd said at that stupid wedding, when she'd been too angry and hurt to hear him. 

Felicity wanted to hear them now. She was ready, and everything about what they'd just done felt like they were finally on the same page again.

He lifted his forehead from hers, cupping her face and kissing her. And he pulled out of her, both of them wincing at the loss. Oliver grunted, catching his breath with his lips pressed against hers. "You changed my life, Felicity. You're my light." he murmured, letting her know that he was fully aware of the way she'd been humming his vows back to him just a moment ago.

Felicity nodded, her arms winding tightly around his neck. "Yes," she groaned, surprised at how much she needed to hear these things now. She knew that she hadn't given him much assurance before, but they were both there now, and it could be salvaged.

It wasn't over.

They could fix this. They _always_ could. 

Oliver looked down at her for a long moment, his tongue pressing between his lips and his eyes filling with tears.

She stared back with wide eyes, confusion and post-orgasm haze clouding her brain. Oliver looked like he was in _pain,_ but she couldn't catch up to it, because everything that had just happened between them had been perfect, clarifying, and everything she'd ever need. Her mouth opened to question, her heart dropping to her stomach at the sheer _hurt_ in his eyes.

But she was struck silent by the way he looked at her. Confused.

"I know what this was, Felicity. I know why you came here tonight. And I want you to know that you will always be the love of my life, Felicity. Always." He said, blinking back the emotion that was currently breaking her heart. She nodded, about to agree when his eyes closed and he took a small step back, his hands unwilling to let her go. He finally forced his body away from hers, unable to meet her eyes. He couldn't see the shock on her face. The confusion and the hurt.

"But I know that I'm not the love of yours."


	9. Season Five: Oliver

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Season 5 is a struggle to watch and even more of a struggle to write a chapter about. I was hoping to use an early episode, but I couldn't find any inspiration until 5x16. I hope y'all enjoy!  
> I also wanted to say that Felicity's chapter for season 5 will be the last one for a while. I'll probably come back to it once all of season 6 has aired so I know I'm picking the best scenes ;) Thank you all for reading!

It was after they found out who Prometheus was.

Adrian Chase had been playing Oliver the whole time, setting up every move, and Oliver had walked into each one. Hoops that he'd jumped right through.

It was like Chase said, he was ten steps ahead, and Oliver didn't even know what game they were playing. 

People kept dying, lives touched and ruined all because they'd met and believed in Oliver Queen. Wasn't that what Adrian was trying to prove? That Oliver was a cancer to anyone who had the displeasure of meeting him? His words in Pike's hospital room wouldn't stop replaying in his ears. Chase threw every name, every heartbreak, every loss he'd ever suffered back in his face.

His plans ran deep, and his hatred was even deeper. 

It had shaken him, making his confidence waver for the first time. God, he'd been so arrogant; promising everyone that they'd catch him. Promising Felicity that she'd see justice done. But the way Chase spoke to him at the hospital was terrifying. Chilling.

After listening to Adrian's words, Oliver had gone back to the bunker, intent on partaking in his most overdone activity; brooding alone.

But rage had kind of taken over. As soon as the elevator doors opened, the first thing he saw was his suit. The Green Arrow that he'd once promised would be a light for the city. A hero...had become a killer.

He'd created a monster in Prometheus.

Looking at his suit...something else took over entirely. He ripped it down from its case, knocking it to the floor. But that didn't make him feel any better, so he'd broken the television, and then the glass cases and pretty much everything else in the bunker.

Sitting on the steps, he stared up at her bank of computers.

He'd started to consider the elevated space to be Felicity's domain...and even in his rage, he hadn't dared touch that. She would have killed him if he broke her babies, that was for sure. But the thought of destroying something that was hers, that she loved, hadn't even crossed his mind. He could never do that.

Instead, the rest of the bunker took the heat of his anger. 

The elevator doors slid open, and Felicity stepped through, smiling gently at him until she noticed the condition of the bunker. "What happened? Are you okay?" She asked, her heels cracking over the glass as she walked towards him.

Oliver closed his eyes, putting his head in his hands. "I happened."

 _"You_ did this?" He heard the surprise in her voice, but he wasn't sure why it would come as a shock to her. 

"Adrian was at the hospital. In Pike's room."

"Oh my god," she breathed, standing in front of him now, "is Pike okay? I mean, besides the whole...coma thing. Is he...what did Chase want?"

"He wants to ruin my life."

"Oliver..."

"Chase said that there hasn't been anything we could do to stop him, and he's right. We didn't even known who he is until now." His eyes shifted to her, "I did this, Felicity. Chase only exists, he's only doing this, because of me. Because of what _I_ did."

"No, he's wrong. He's wrong about you and he's wrong about us. We _will_ stop him. You and me, Oliver..." He stared up at her, and she forced a smile, "and the team, I mean. We all will. Together. And we'll get Susan back."

"Felicity, he's been planning this for years. And he's not done. This is all happening exactly how he wanted it to." He looked up at her again, his eyes desperate and focused on her in a way that he hadn't allowed himself to have in a very long time.

Felicity was his rock. All the comfort he could ever need, he found in her. And he'd put a lid on those feelings so that she didn't have to deal with them. So that she could move on because she deserved to. It was what she'd wanted, and he'd had to fight with himself every day not to tell her how he still felt. Ultimately, that meant avoiding even _looking_ at her most days, because as soon as he did...he knew that it was written all over his face how he still felt about her.

But he couldn't stop it now. "Adrian told me that there's not much more loss that I can take," he whispered.

She cleared her throat, glancing away, "We'll find her, Oliver. I have...some systems running scans right now. We'll find Susan."

He closed his eyes, and Felicity sat down beside him. "What systems?"

"The kind that get us what we need. We can talk about it later."

"Felicity," he sighed, "you're getting into something, and it's scaring me, and we need to talk about it. Now."

"I don't think this is the best time, Oliver..." she breathed, leaning away from him. 

"He told me that I'm one loss away from being destroyed." Oliver turned his head to look into her eyes, hoping she would understand.

"Oliver," Felicity huffed, "I just told you..." She trailed off when his eyes darkened, full of emotion and some kind of guilt or embarrassment. She tried to smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. "You didn't need to wreck the bunker over it," she said, bumping her knee against his as she sat beside him on the stairs, trying to lighten the mood. "You're the one who said he wouldn't hurt Susan."

"I know, and we're not going to let Adrian Chase hurt anyone else. But I also told you that I'm worried about _you_."

She sighed, "Yes."

"And...you seemed surprised by that."

She raised her eyebrows, her shoulders stiffening, "Well, we've just been...I mean, we don't really talk like we used-I just-I didn't know-"

Oliver stared down at her as she stuttered, finally letting her off the hook as he interrupted, "That I care about you?"

Felicity tried to laugh, the noise sounding forced. "No, of course I know that you _care_ , Oliver. I just...didn't realize that you were worried."

"Am I right to be?"

She shook her head quickly, her eyebrows furrowing, "No, of course not, not at all. I'm fine. I can handle it, Oliver." Her over-convincing only made a knot form in his stomach. He didn't believe her.

"Where have you been, Felicity? Where were you...after we found out about Chase, and Susan being taken, we couldn't reach you. Do you have any idea-" Her head snapped up to look at him, and he pinched his lips together. He could tell that she heard the concern in his voice. Concern and emotion for her that they'd both been trying to pretend didn't exist anymore. But it was there. It had never really left.

"Adrian is psychotic," he sighed, "and he's been targeting the people that I'm closest to. He's already messed with Lance and Curtis. And then you just disappeared. As soon as Talia told me who Prometheus was, I came back here and...you were just _gone_ , and I-"

"Weren't you the one that said I don't work for you? I don't answer to you."

He let out a breath of annoyance, "Felicity, you know as well as I do that that's not what I'm saying. I'm not angry at you because you weren't here to help. You're not my employee, I meant that. I'm angry because you knew that there was a psychopath running around, hell bent on hurting the people I love, and you thought it was okay to disappear like that!"

"Oliver, I think you're the last person who deserves to be judging me about this. You and I haven't talked about any of this-"

"We haven't talked about _anything_ , Felicity! Not William, not what happened after Laurel's funeral, not anything going on with you right now...Felicity, we don't _talk_! I had no idea where you were, or if something had happened to you-"

"You don't actually think that now is the right time to get into all of that! And weren't you also the one that said _Susan_ is Chase's play?"

"Yeah, and then I spoke with Adrian in the hospital, and I realized that I have no idea what the hell his play is, Felicity! All I know...is that he wants to hurt me in the worst way possible. And he has a long-term plan for that. So... _you_ need to be honest with me!"

She blinked, "Why are you getting mad at _me_!? What did I do!? You don't have a right to know everything about me and what I do, Oliver. Not anymore."

"You ran off for hours and we didn't..." He let out a sharp breath, clenching his hands together and bringing them to his face, trying to calm down. "It could have been you," he whispered, "what if it had been you?" His mind flashed to the night of Laurel's funeral, hearing Felicity say those same words.

Oliver's breath caught in his throat as he pinned down the source of his anger. They both fell silent.

_It could have been her._

He remembered her saying that she'd felt relief...when she realized that it was Laurel who had been hurt by Darhk, because it meant that it wasn't _him_.

He'd felt something similar when she'd finally called them back, apologizing for going dark for hours. He knew that she was still in danger, that they all were, but part of him was relieved Adrian had taken Susan...because it meant that it wasn't _her_.

His eyes roamed up to Felicity's, and she stared back with wide, confused eyes. "What are you talking about? What could have been me?" She whispered, her tone hesitant, as if she already knew.

"Adrian could have taken you, Felicity. And I know that saying this right now makes me an awful person when Susan is still out there, and I know that I have no right to say it...but I felt relief. I was relieved that he hadn't touched you...because...because Chase seems to know everything about me. More than I've even been willing to admit to myself. And when you weren't answering our calls, I was afraid...I was afraid that he'd gotten to you."

His voice dropped to just a whisper, "Because he knows...he _has_ to know..." Oliver couldn't resist anymore, he reached his hand up to touch her cheek, surprised when she closed her eyes and leaned into his touch.

It was what she always did. She always melted into his palm in a way that made his heart feel whole. Made him feel like he could do anything, as long as the woman in front of him kept responding to his touch in this way.

Lately, he'd been too afraid to touch her like this...he hadn't even dared to try in months, too afraid that she'd push him away. 

"He has to know how I feel about you," Oliver mumbled, his voice thick with emotion.

Felicity's eyes snapped open, and she pushed his hand, making his heart sink into his stomach. "I should be getting a location on your girlfriend any minute, Oliver." She mumbled, "We need to focus...and besides, we're not the loves of each others' lives, remember?"

He clenched his jaw, "First of all, she's not my girlfriend, and we will save her. Second of all..." Oliver cupped her chin, turning her face to look at him. Her eyes bore into his, a passion he hadn't seen the sparks of in a while. Too long. "What I said to you that night was that _you_  are the love of _my_ life, Felicity." He spoke lowly, sure that he had her attention.

"But you didn't think I felt the same way? You don't think that you're the love of mine?" She asked, her eyes hardening.

Oliver glanced away, "I was just stating the obvious."

She shoved his hand away with more force this time, "How is that obvious? Because that conclusion seemed to be clear to you and _only_ you. Everyone else-" She pursed her lips, stopping herself. And then she stood up, starting to pace in front of him with her hands on her hips.

His eyes narrowed, and he leaned forward, hearing the words she wasn't saying. Everyone else thought otherwise? "Everyone else what, Felicity?"

"Everyone else knows the truth, Oliver." She snapped, throwing her arms out to the side and looking down at him. He could see in her eyes that she was giving up. She was finally giving up on this ridiculous standoff they'd been in for all this time.

Finally, it was time for an honest conversation.

He felt his hands starting to shake, knowing that they'd been putting this off for so long, and now that she was finally ready, he was terrified. Once they talked, would it be over? Was this the final closure she needed? She was still here, she stayed by his side after Darhk, through everything. She was his ex-fiance, but she hadn't left him after the breakup. She could have packed her bags like John and Thea. She could have moved on, away from him, left for a different city if she really wanted to get away from him as much he'd thought she did.

But she'd stayed, not just in Star City, but with him.

Part of him was still holding on. Still hoping that she'd stayed here because...maybe someday...

"Anyone with two eyes and any common sense could see how much I loved you, Oliver! And you gave up on that!"

He stared at her, his mind racing as his eyes shifted back and forth, watching her pace. "I didn't _give up_ , Felicity, I gave you what you wanted. I sacrificed what _I_ felt," he said, putting his hands on his chest as he looked up at her, "I bottled all of that up so that you could be happy. If I hadn't, you wouldn't have been able to step foot into this bunker without me begging you to take me back. If I had allowed myself to be selfish with you, then I never would have let you go. And where would that have gotten me? You stayed in Star City after John and Thea left to help me, but I would have lost you forever if I spent every day trying to remind you of what we had, trying to win you back. _You_ said that it was too hard. _You_ said that it was over between us. But you stayed, and I wasn't going to scare you away. I was trying to make it easier for you to be around me, so that I wouldn't lose you."

She laughed once, "You're crazy...if you think that fighting for me wasn't _exactly_ what I wanted you to do."

He froze, and she just stared at him, her eyes unwavering. "I thought...when you came to see me after the funeral that night..."

"You thought that I was stopping by for some pity sex? Goodbye sex? God, Oliver, how did you not see it?"

Oliver stood up now, stepping close enough that he had to stare down his nose at her, his heart beating out of his chest. She stared back with equal heat in her eyes. "What didn't I see?"

"Oliver, I was reciting your _wedding_ vows to you! While we were-while you were..."

"While I was making love to you? I remember, Felicity." Like he could ever forget _that_ happening.

He agonized over it most nights, actually. He'd spent a lot of time thinking about that moment, just before he'd fall asleep. And a lot of daydreaming in the office, wondering what it meant that she remembered his every word. She'd been so angry at him at their fake wedding that he was certain she wasn't even listening to him.

Hearing her whisper his vows that night, his promise to her, mumbled back to him in his ear, it had rendered him speechless.

"Yes," she breathed, a blush rising up her neck. "It was...one of the most passionate, perfect nights we've ever had together. And I thought...but your head was obviously somewhere else. And I don't think that you and I have been on the same page ever since."

"What are you saying, Felicity?"

"I'm saying that I forgave you...I forgave you a long time ago. But then you walked away that night..." He stared at her, watching as a tear fell down her cheek, and his heart seized in his chest. "And I just...I let you."

"Are you trying to tell me...that I could have had you back that night?" His voice was low with anger, regret, and sadness.

"I shouldn't have let you walk away," she whispered, her sad eyes moving to look up at him as he closed the distance between them.

"Could I have had you back that night, Felicity?" He asked, his voice strained.

"Yeah," she sighed, looking up at him, "I was ready, Oliver."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I thought I _was_ telling you! I thought you understood!"

"I mean after," he growled, his eyes heavy as he looked down at her, captivating her not to look away. "You were...I had no idea if you meant any of that, Felicity. You were hurting. We both were. I didn't want you to think that I expected anything from you...that I would judge you, or hold what happened between us that night against you. You broke up with me. You walked. So, if you had changed your mind, why didn't you talk to me?"

"Because...because of what you said, about not being the love of my life," she whimpered, her hands reaching for his face.

He took a step back before she could touch him, knowing that if he let them go there, they wouldn't end up talking at all. "I said that for you, Felicity! I thought that you were looking for some kind of final confirmation. Closure. I was trying to let you off the hook!"

She glanced away, looking hurt for a moment as she crossed her arms. "I didn't want to be let off the hook!" She argued, "I wanted you!"

"I didn't know that!" He grunted, his eyes boring down into hers. They'd lost so much time... _wasted_ so much of it. "I have been _trying_ , Felicity. I let you go, I let you move on and I didn't fight for you, because I thought that was what you wanted. I thought it was what I needed to do so that I could keep you in my life. I thought you wanted me to let go. You said before..."

She nodded, blinking back tears as she glanced at her feet, her hand rising to her mouth. "Yeah...yeah, I know what I said before..." She whispered.

He clenched his teeth together, anger bubbling inside of him. He never would have even considered asking Susan Williams out if he knew...he _hadn't_ thought about dating until he was hit in the face with the realization that she was seeing someone. "And now?"

"And now I think we should focus on finding your not-girlfriend, Oliver." She crossed her arms over her chest, her guard back up.

Not a chance was he letting that be the end of this conversation. "Felicity, I need to hear you say it," he whispered, moving closer to her.

"Say what?" She mumbled back, her eyes flashing with wavering resolve as he closed the distance.

He put his hands on her arms, slowly stepping towards her until he was only inches away, his body just barely brushing against hers. Staring down at her gorgeous blue eyes, he whispered, "Tell me I was wrong. Please."

"You were wrong," she said instantly, her eyes unblinking as she stared up into his, making him wonder if she understood what he was saying. But then she took _another_ step towards him, lifting her hands to grip his sides. Her high heels came between his feet as she tilted her head up, her chest pressed against his. "You're the love of my life, too, Oliver."

He let out a sharp breath, his eyes flashing. And then he slammed them shut. "Chase said that I'm one loss away from being destroyed," he breathed. "And I couldn't stop myself from thinking of you...seeing your face." He opened his eyes slowly as he felt her fingers grip into his hips. "You're the loss that would destroy me, Felicity. I can't...I can't lose _you_. Not again. Not ever again. Okay? Not again."

"I'm not going anywhere, Oliver. I never have." She slowly wrapped her arms around him, her hands gently smoothing over his back. And he believed her. How long had it even been since she'd touched him?

What had he been thinking, to let her do this? To let her run away, to push him away for so long? She was scared, and he should have known better.

Oliver walked her backwards slowly, pushing his body against hers, guiding her to the couch. He heard her inhale, watched as her chest lifted, and she held her breath. When the back of her knees reached the black leather, she sat down, and then she laid back onto the cushions. He took a moment to read her, to see if he still could. He saw her hips wiggle slightly, her teeth catching her bottom lip as she looked up at him.

And then he was on top of her, her body beneath his feeling like coming home.

He took his time as he smoothed her hair back, staring down into her eyes. She looked right back at him, not a hint of doubt in her gaze, and he groaned. Felicity squirmed beneath him, and he picked his hips up, taking his weight off of her long enough so that she could let her knees fall open.

When he settled between her thighs, he heard her breath getting heavier, and his eyes rolled shut at how good it felt to be back where he felt the safest. The most like himself. Where he belonged.

Eventually, she sighed, digging her fingers into his lower back, pulling him closer, and he rotated his hips, hearing her whimper. He did it again, already hard as a rock just from the way her hands on his body had felt, the way she picked her hips up off the couch to meet his.

She moved up against him in tiny, shallow thrusts, and he put his forehead against hers, trying to catch his breath. She lifted her head up and kissed him. God, she tasted like nothing he'd ever experienced before. Her mouth moved with his as if he'd always meant to be kissing her. 

"Felicity," he groaned, feeling her tongue slip out to lick his bottom lip. He opened for her, groaning even louder as she reminded him what it felt like to have her tongue playing with his. She moaned back, her hands holding his waist so tightly that it hurt as she dragged his hips against hers, seeking friction.

He lifted his hips away from hers, only slightly, but he understood her noise of disapproval. He laughed gently, kissing her again and she tried to pull his waist back to hers. 

Instead, he pushed his hand between her legs. The way her breath caught in her throat when he cupped her core was gorgeous, but not as gorgeous as the way her hips ground up and into his hand feverishly. "Yes, Oliver," she whispered, sliding her hands up his body until she reached his face.

He pushed her down with his hand holding her sex, moving it in slow circles, his wrist rubbing against her clit as his fingers teased her entrance. "God, Felicity," he groaned when he felt her underwear getting wet beneath his fingers.

She bit her lip as she looked up at him, her eyes so sure and confident, comforting him that as right as this felt to him, it felt just as right for her. Her hand slipped between their bodies, and then she nudged his hand aside just long enough to shove her panties out of the way. He sighed, his mouth dropping to her neck as she positioned his hand on her again, exactly as it had been.

But now he could feel her. His wrist kneaded gently over her sensitive nub, and her hand gripped his, resting on top of it as if she was trying to keep him there. He had no intentions of removing his hand, but he liked the way she guided him, showing him exactly what she wanted. Where she wanted him. 

They didn't need to speak, he could still read her body like no time had passed between them at all. But it was a pivotal moment between them as her fingers laced through his, pushing his hand down harder, urging him to rub her clit even faster. Her breath came out in sharp pants, and he moved his mouth away from her throat to look down at her, unable to take his eyes off of her face, remembering exactly what she looked like when she was in this state. 

"You're perfect." He whispered, kissing the corner of her mouth. "Is this okay?"

Felicity nodded determinedly, her eyebrows furrowing in concentration, and it was the _sexiest_ thing.

They were both focused on her orgasm, and the way she gave herself to him was intoxicating. Her entire body opened for him, letting him in in a way that he didn't think was possible anymore. "Oliver," she mumbled, meeting his eyes and offering a smile.

He grunted, slipping the pads of his first two fingers between her folds, circling her dripping entrance easily. Her free hand came up to his neck, gripping the back of it and pressing her forehead against his. 

Her hand moving with his was one of the most unexpectedly erotic things he'd ever felt, like they were doing this together, both intent on the same goal. As he pushed his fingers into her, she gasped before releasing the breath, her eyes fluttering shut. And her hand moved to grip his wrist. He paused for just a moment, feeling her walls compress around his fingers. It was perfect, and absolutely beautiful. "You alright?" He mumbled, feeling her nails dig into his wrist.

"Yes," She panted, "more than alright. Don't stop." He nodded, curling his fingers inside of her at the same time. She moaned, picking her head up to kiss him.

Oh, she _purred_ , the sound that came out from between her lips made his cock twitch. 

Oliver swallowed it, pulling his fingers out of her and pushing them back in, curling them again, repeating the movement over and over. He could tell that he was building her up, that she was close, but he knew that she wouldn't come. Not like this. 

Her nails were pressed into his skin so hard that he knew she was leaving marks, but he didn't complain. In fact, he was looking forward to having that there to look down at for the next few days. Every time he looked at his hand, he'd see a reminder of this, of what she was letting him do to her.

She held on to him like she was holding on for dear life, her hands keeping him from moving. "Felicity," he breathed, basking in the moan he got in response. "I want you to come for me. I need you to come." She cried out as he straightened his fingers, thrusting them into her, burying them deep inside of her. "You're breathtaking when you come, and I need to see it."

Felicity whimpered, her walls squeezing him, her hips lifting from the couch, riding his fingers. Her hips were pushing their hands against his erection, and he choked on a groan, slamming his eyes shut.

This was about _her_. The sexy, mesmerizing woman beneath him. The one who had broken his heart the day he became convinced he'd never touch again. That pain was absolutely crushing, but he forced it out of his mind, because here he was. Felicity Smoak was underneath him, riding his fingers as if she was the only woman meant to pleasure herself like this, use his hand like this. 

Oliver swallowed. She _is_. He'd always known that what he shared with Felicity was incomparable to anything he'd had in the past. And when he was with her, he'd always thought that it'd be forever. As soon as he had her, as soon as she was his, he'd never wondered what sex would be like after Felicity. Because he planned on only having it with her for the rest of his life.

They'd made mistakes, lost sight of the magic between them, but none of it seemed to matter because Felicity was moaning his name now, and he'd never heard anything more perfect.

It was more than good sex. They both knew that. Sure, when it came to what they had in common, their collective talent, it was definitely one of the things they were best at. But it was always more. With her, it was always more.

"Oliver," she moaned, and he heard how close she was. She was right on the edge, and he opened his eyes to watch. She let go of his wrist and his neck, leaving a dull sting as her nails released him. Slowly, and with her eyes on him, she slid her hands over him until she reached his face. Holding it between her hands as she looked up at him, she laughed once, the sound coming out strained and breathy...and beautiful. 

It was so her, so unexpected and arousing to hear the satisfied little sound. He smiled back down at her, not even sure what they thought was so amusing, but he _loved_ it. That quiet, somehow shy yet perfectly comfortable moment as they smiled at each other. 

Moving his hand, he pressed his thumb against her clit, rubbing it slowly, matching the pace of his fingers thrusting into her. Felicity's eyebrows furrowed as she let out a soft "Oh." Her body tightened as he pushed her over the edge, but her hands were gentle now, light as feathers as they stroked his face, smoothing over the rough hair on his cheeks. 

She came with a tiny shiver, and then a sharp, spellbinding cry, and he groaned as he stared down at her face. He kept his pace with his thumb as he rode out her orgasm. Keeping his fingers inside of her, he enjoyed the way her hips thrusted into him and her walls clenched around him. He squeezed his eyes shut, remembering how incredible _that_ felt when a different part of him was inside of her.

This was almost as good, though, especially when she whimpered again, wiggling beneath him. He slowly removed his hand, knowing how sensitive she was after an intense orgasm. 

At a loss for words, Oliver leaned down to kiss her, half of him enjoying the bliss with her, but the other half wondering what she was going to say...once she was out of her haze. She kissed him back, and he sighed. Her arms wound around his neck, her thighs welcoming him as he braced himself on his arms above her. He kissed her with everything he had, holding on to every second he had with her. 

Felicity ran her hands over his shoulders, comforting him so wholly, and he wasn't even sure if she knew the effect it had on him...when she touched him like this. It made him feel cared for, and loved, like she was putting his broken pieces back together.

He dropped his face to hide in the crook of her neck, sighing.

Oliver felt her chest start to shake, hearing her wonderful, sweet laughter. He slowly picked his head up, moving so he could see her face. And his breath caught in his throat. She wasn't just laughing. She looked perfectly satisfied...perfectly _fucked._

Her face was relaxed. Blissful. And the thought that he had put that expression on her face was ground-shaking. "I forgot how good you were at that." She breathed. "Well, I didn't forget. But _feeling_ it again was definitely...wow."

"Felicity..." he hesitated, and she cocked her head to the side.

"If you're not going anywhere..." she whispered, smiling up at him as she wiggled her hips, reminding him how hard he was as he settled deeper between her legs. "Then I'm not going anywhere. I'm with you, Oliver. In every sense."

He groaned, kissing her swollen lips, "We can-we can take it slow. I want to do this right. I'm not losing you again. Hypothetically dating your ex-fiance could be a little...hard..."

"Really?" She asked, her eyebrows furrowing, "because that felt...incredibly easy. It's _us_ , Oliver. I have enough regrets when it comes to me and you, I'm not making the same mistakes again. Besides, there's only one thing that seems hard right now...and it's between my legs."

Oliver let out a breath, "Cute." He grinned.

Felicity rolled her eyes with a relaxed smile, "I know," she sang, moving her hand slowly down his chest, reaching for the button of his pants. He held his breath as she popped it open, relieving some of the pressure. And then she slipped her hand into his pants, rubbing him over his boxers with her perfect fingers.

"Oh, Felicity," he groaned, catching the sexy, self-assured smile on her face just before his eyes closed in pleasure. He was such a fool for her, it might be embarrassing if he didn't know how much she loved it.

Felicity pushed her hand into his boxers, gripping him in her tiny fist and he immediately felt the pressure rising from his spine. He moaned, forcing his eyes open to see her. 

Once he was looking into her eyes, she moved her hand, jerking it up and down, and he grunted, his hips jolting to meet her hand in quick thrusts. "Oh, yes," she breathed. He shook his head at the gorgeous, confident grin on her face. She knew exactly how thoroughly she affected him, and he loved that she loved it. He loved how _giving_ she was, how pleasuring him seemed just as fun for her.

He let out another quiet grunt, dropping his mouth to her face, pressing his lips to hers before he planted kisses all over her face. Her thumb came up to the head of his erection, and she rubbed it over the tip, using his pre-cum as she massaged him, her palm stroking him up and down, touching him everywhere, squeezing him tenderly. 

She knew exactly how to touch him, and he'd never been more comfortable with anyone in his life. She saw every part of him; the good, the bad and the ugly, and she'd loved him. All of him. 

Felicity gasped as a shrill ringing broke through their haze, and they both froze. Her phone was somewhere on the floor, and her eyes met his before they both remembered what was going on right now.

Adrian Chase.

A kidnapped Susan Williams.

Her hand released him, and she reached for her phone. Oliver shifted his weight off of her, grabbing the cell that she couldn't reach and handing it to her. "Hello?" She answered, still sounding breathless as she looked over at him.

Oliver adjusted himself back into his pants as Felicity watched him, listening to whoever was talking on the other end.

It was painful, he was rock hard and throbbing, his body so ready to feel the ecstasy that he knew Felicity would always bring him. "Okay," she said, "I'll be there soon."

His eyebrows furrowed as she stood up. 

Once she was off the phone, he followed after her as she ran up to her computers. Without a word, she grabbed her purse from the desk and headed back for the stairs. "Hey...where are you going?" He asked.

She glanced back at him, "I think we have a lead on Susan Williams. I'll text you if it turns into anything." The look on her face was slightly uncomfortable, but he didn't note any sense of regret.

Nodding, he followed her to the elevator. "We?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Oliver, we don't have time for this right now...I have to go."

He bit his lip, knowing that a woman's life was at stake and that had to take priority to the conversation they needed to have about whatever the hell she was mixed up in. "Felicity...whatever it is...whatever you're doing..."

"It's fine, Oliver. We need to find Susan Williams." She pressed the button for the elevator as he nodded, pinching his lips together.

He and John knew that whatever she was getting involved with wasn't good, and they both knew that they had to be cautious. But his relationship with Felicity had been lacking and wrong for so long that he didn't feel like he had a right to question her.

"Okay," he mumbled, watching her step into the elevator to leave.

He felt a knot in his stomach, and his hand instinctively caught the door before it closed. "But Felicity..." he said lowly, "we're not done here. And as soon as you get back, you and I are having a conversation about this."

She knew that he was referring to the talks they'd been avoiding, their relationship and the things she'd been up to lately, but her gaze drifted down to his pants.

He was slightly less hard than he'd been, but watching her eyes stare at his erection made him shudder, his dick twitching again. Her eyes darkened as she watched it happen, "Yeah," she whispered, "we're not done with a few things, Oliver."


	10. Season Five: Felicity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for reading, and all your wonderful comments that motivated me to keep updating! More to come after season 6 :)

It was after the explosion on Lian Yu.

In one moment, Felicity remembered hearing Oliver’s voice in her ear, and in the next, the explosions were going off, making her brain rattle inside her head. The high pitched ringing in her ears made it hard to register that the explosions were still going, detonating across the island like a wave of smoke and fire.

The sight was surreal. 

It actually felt like a dream. She couldn’t hear anything, her head was light, and the destruction all around her just didn’t seem like she could possibly survive it. The smoke was too thick. The flames looked like walls of fire. The bombs rang in her ears so loud that she was sure her ears were bleeding.

“Felicity!” John’s voice screamed in her ear, making her realize that he’d been yelling it for a while. He grabbed her arm and yanked on it, hard. “We have to move! Let’s go!” She shook her head, trying to clear it as she stared at all the fire, mesmerized. She could feel something wet and warm dripping into her eye, and she reached for a painful spot on her head, groaning. “I know, I know,” her friend murmured in her ear, his voice thick with worry. “We’re going to get off this hellish island, but we have to get away from here  _now_.”

“Oliver,” she groaned, “where’s Oliver?”

“He was on the boat, Felicity. He’s okay. Let’s go find him.” She saw what had his voice taking on that panicked tone; the fuel from the plane was leaking onto the ground, spreading the fire higher and faster than it seemed possible.

Felicity exhaled, her lungs burning as she let John lead her through the burning forest, and she became convinced that there was simply no way she was getting out of here. It felt impossible. It  _looked_ inescapable. Between Chase’s bombs and the rogue landmines that were being set off, this whole island would be ash before they found a way off of it. 

“Dig...” she whispered, realizing that the black spots she was seeing wasn’t smoke. Before he had a chance to answer, she was blacking out, sure that the flames were swallowing her.

Felicity vaguely heard Lance’s voice, feeling herself swaying as John carried her. The two men were trying to come up with a plan to get to the boat Oliver was on. They were yelling, trying to decide the safest route.

_Oliver_.

Felicity wasn’t sure if it was night time or if the smoke around them was so dense that everything appeared to be pitch black, but Dinah’s face came into focus, leaning over her, yelling to someone nearby, and Felicity could feel the heat on her forehead. “She’s waking up! Dig, hold her down! I’m not done cauterizing this!” 

She felt a searing pain on her head and then she was screaming and everything turned black again.

Felicity opened her eyes and she was staring up at a clear night sky. So many stars. She could hear the sound of waves right near her head and she was being held by her favorite pair of arms. His lips were on her temple, and he was whispering the best things in her ear, like “I love you,” and “I will always, always,  _always_ love you.” She wasn’t sure why he was saying them or even if he was real, it seemed impossible after the chaos and pain she remembered, so she let the waves rock her back into the darkness, willing them to take her back to a different night. Another night that had been painful and terrifying, but had ended beautifully. 

She wanted to be there again. With him.

* * *

_It was after Oliver came back to her._

_He walked into the bunker and stripped his jacket off, dropping it on the floor. He explained that Chase had him, that he’d tortured him. Felicity had never seen the look on his face, and she whimpered, the sound drawing his eyes to hers. As soon as he looked into her eyes, he’d squeezed his own shut tight, as if looking at her had hurt him somehow._

_Oliver insisted on being alone, and she refused to leave, crossing her arms in defiance._

_“I’m not going anywhere.”  
_

_“Chase showed me who I really am, Felicity.” Oliver sighed, “I’m not the man you think I am. I’m not the man you fell in love with. You need to go.”  
_

_“Screw Chase, Oliver! He’s insane. He doesn’t know a damn thing about you, I know you! I know exactly who you are. And I know the person that I fell in love with. I’ve loved every part of you. Don’t let him make you doubt that. Don’t let him do this, don’t let him win.”  
_

_Oliver looked exhausted, his gray hoodie zipped up over his chest, but she’d seen the tortures underneath. New and old. His eyes were vacant, cold. “Everything you’ve done, Dig’s done, the team’s done...in my name...it was based on a lie.”_

_Felicity closed the space between them, pressing her body against his where he still leaned on the medical table after insisting he patch himself up. She cupped his face, expecting him to push away from her with the way he was talking, but he was too tired to move. “What are you talking about?” She asked quietly, smoothing her fingers over his cheeks._

_“He showed me...that I didn’t do what I did to be a hero. I did what I did...because it was a part of me. A bigger part than I would like to admit. That I_ enjoyed  _it...I enjoyed killing.” He breathed the words like a confession, and her heart sunk. Not because_ she  _believed them. But because_ he  _did._

_And then he pushed off of the table, nudging her out of his way and heading downstairs to the bed she knew he’d lie awake on all night.  
_

_Hell. No._

_Felicity gave him fifteen minutes. That was all he was getting to sulk in this. This self-loathing and pity. Then she followed him down._

_He glanced up as she came in, “Felicity...I told you to leave. I want you to leave.”_

_“No,” she shook her head. “You don’t.”  
_

_His eyes narrowed at her. “Well you should.”_

_“I won’t.” she said, crossing her arms and stepping towards him. He sat up on the bed and she sat down beside him. “Did you really think I was just going to walk out of here after that? Leave you alone with this crazy idea that you enjoy killing?”  
_

_“It’s the truth.”  
_

_Felicity shook her head, placing her hand over his gripped knuckles, white as he wrung his hands together. “It’s not, Oliver. You’re not him. You saw the world differently back then, but you’re not a monster. I wouldn’t have fallen in love with you, or wanted to marry you if I didn’t_ know  _you. You’ve spent a decade dealing with horrors that most people don’t even realize exist, and the fact that that didn’t turn you into a monster proves exactly the kind of person you are.”_

_“How can you honestly believe that...after everything you’ve seen me do? Everything I’ve told you I’ve done? The people I’ve hurt. Killed. How can you look at me and not see that I’m a monster?”  
_

_Felicity rested her lips to his shoulder, kissing it as she felt her heart breaking for him. “Because I can’t even begin to imagine the hell you’ve been through. But I saw you as the man in front of me when we met. And he was passionate, and selfless, and brave. And I fell in love with that man. But you were also broken in ways that I could never pretend to understand. You were hurt, but I’ve watched you give yourself to this city for five years. Sacrifice yourself and what you want...even me. Monsters don’t care like you do, Oliver. They don’t love the way that I know you love me.”_

_She let out a sharp breath, “I’ve never seen you in as much pain as you are now. So let me be here. Let me help.”_

_He sighed, dropping his forehead to hers. “I don’t deserve you.”_

_“You do. But it’s not about what we deserve, Oliver. Love isn’t about what the world owes you. I love you, and I want to be here...do you want me to stay?”  
_

_He nodded slowly, his nose brushing against hers. “Yes...” he breathed, his tone still hesitant. So Felicity gently pushed him back onto the bed, curling herself around him and holding him as tightly as he held her._

_She woke up a few hours later to Oliver having a nightmare. He was mumbling in his sleep, his fingers gripping her back, but he laid perfectly still. Even through a night terror, his body had always known when she was near him, and he never thrashed. “Oliver,” she whispered, turning her head to kiss his chest._

_Oliver woke up with a start, his hand flying to her face, the other one dragging her closer to his chest. “Hey,” he said, his voice groggy but worried. “Did he hurt you? Are you okay?”_

_“I’m fine,” she said soothingly, rubbing her hands over his bare chest, frowning at how hot he was. Oliver’s eyes darted to hers, and she calmly reached for his face, smiling at him sleepily, trying to show him that everything was all right. “You’re okay. It was just a dream, I’m fine.”_

_“Where are your glasses?” He asked, still sounding just as anxious._

_She frowned, throwing her arm out to pick them up off the little table next to the bed. She waved them in front of him, “Right here. Why?”_

_Oliver released a breath, putting his hand over his face, covering his eyes. The fingers of his other hand dug into her back, roaming over her in familiar patterns. He was still waking up, confirming that she was real and she was okay. “Oliver...” she slipped her glasses onto her face so she could see him better. “Talk to me,” she said, tugging his hand away from his face._

_He never used to tell her about his dreams, but once she’d shown him that she could handle it, he’d started to lean on her. Telling her about them always seemed to help._

_He looked up at her, his face breaking, and he lifted his hand to touch the frames of her glasses. Oliver shook his head, a choked sound releasing from his throat. Felicity instinctively climbed on top of him, looking down at his face and studying it as if she’d get the answers this way. “What did you dream about?” She asked, pressing her body to his._

_“It wasn’t a dream.” He mumbled, sliding his hand over the temple of her glasses and into her hair. “Where did you find these?”  
_

_She hesitated, “The loft. By the refrigerator. I lost them a couple days ago,” her eyebrows pushed together, “how did you know that?”_

_“Chase took them,” he said, almost inaudible as his palms smoothed over her body, touching every inch of her that he could reach. “He was trying to prove to me that he could get to anyone...anyone I care about.”  
_

_Felicity shivered. Creepy. “Okay. Well, you’re sleeping at the loft for the next...forever, anyway.”_

_He smiled, and it may have been small and sad, but it was there. “I love you so much.”_

_Felicity leaned forward, gliding her nose along his before she kissed him. “I love you, too. Always.”_

_His kisses were hesitant for a while. She could feel him holding back, but she could also feel him relaxing beneath her, letting himself go. So she rocked her hips against him in tiny, gentle thrusts until he started rocking back._

_He sighed, and she moaned as he rubbed his hardening length against her center. She’d stripped down to her bra and underwear before she fell asleep, and he was only in his boxers, so she could feel every jerk of his cock as he pushed his hips up to meet hers._

_She knew that he was giving up control, putting himself in her hands, and she kept her composure, intent on taking care of him the way that he’d done for her before Chase had kidnapped him._

_They still hadn’t talked about their long list of problems, and she was certain that after a night like this, with the thoughts he’d been having, sex would only make him feel more guilty. He was trusting her to heal him, as they always did for each other. But she was resolved to move forward the right way this time._

_Felicity moved down his body, and he opened his eyes to watch her curiously. She glanced up at him, and his fingers ghosted over the hinge of her glasses. He didn’t speak, but she saw his eyes spark with a promise, more vibrant than she’d seen them all night. And she understood his silent vow, to never let anyone, including the most pressing threat of Adrian Chase, hurt her._

_She vowed the same thing._

_And then she pulled his boxers over his waist, and he lifted his hips to help. Felicity wrapped her hand around his cock, stroking him up and down a few times as Oliver collapsed back onto the bed with a groan._

_She felt the urgency boiling up inside of him, the need for release, the need for_ her _...so she took a moment to press kisses from his base to his head, and then she took him into her mouth._

_Oliver pushed up onto his elbows with a sharp hiss, and she licked the bead of cum that seeped out of him. He sat up more, bringing his hands to her hair, brushing it over her shoulders softly so he could see her face. He adjusted her glasses as she slowly sucked all of him into her mouth. She usually would have taken them off by now, but he seemed satisfied with where they were._

_“God, yes,” he whispered, “Felicity, Felicity,”  
_

_She wrapped her hand around his cock again, circling her tongue over his tip while her hand worked him. Her name fell from his lips like a litany, and it spurred her on._

_He tried to tip her chin up just before he came, but she was already expecting it, feeling him throbbing in her mouth as he climbed to his orgasm._

_Felicity just shook her head, keeping her lips wrapped around his erection until he came in her mouth. And she kissed her way up his body as he caught his breath, falling back onto the bed with her sprawling over his chest. She buried her face in his neck, pressing soft kisses against his calming pulse. “I love you.”_

_Oliver lifted her chin until he was looking at her face, and he smiled, his expression relaxed and happy, finally, and she smiled back. “I love you.” He pressed his lips against hers, slipping his tongue into her mouth and groaning when he tasted himself. “And thank you.” He sighed._

_Then Felicity curled up against his side, tossing her arm over his chest and slipping her leg in between his. She breathed him in as she rested her head on his shoulder, gently tracing the bandage where his tattoo was, right over his heart. He sighed as he felt it, kissing her forehead and stroking his fingers through her hair until she drifted off to sleep. And she fell asleep knowing that there wasn’t a force on earth that could separate them._

_Not anymore._

The beeping in her head was annoying. It felt like she’d been listening to the obnoxious sound for hours, but it was just now pulling her away from her perfect dream. The night she associated with the beginning of their redemption. Oliver had let her in, he’d trusted her completely, given himself to her completely...in a moment when she knew he’d wanted nothing more than to wallow in his own self-pity.

Waking up the next morning had been better than she’d expected, but she still knew that he was hurting. Chase had left wounds inside of Oliver that scared her more than any of the ones she could see. 

But unlike his secrets about his son, he didn’t hold anything back from her. Day in and day out, he’d told her everything. Everything he was feeling. 

And he’d continued to hurt, through all of Adrian’s games. But he never let it consume him enough that he’d push her away. He shared his fears, how he had to fight against his instincts that still told him alone was the only way he could live. There was still a part of him that was alone on that island, but she could see how hard he was trying not to be that person.

Felicity wondered how it must have felt for him to see the island exploding...to think that they were all dead...after he’d come so far, after he’d let himself care about her, John, and the team. She wondered if he blamed himself for what happened, but she prayed that he didn’t.

Wait.

She shot up, “Oliver!” Her eyes blinked frantically, trying to see her surroundings. 

A hospital room. 

The beeping was coming from a heart monitor next to her bed. And Oliver was sitting in a chair he’d pulled up beside her. His head had been resting on his hand as he’d held hers, but he startled awake when she yelled his name.

“I’m right here,” he mumbled, his eyes wide as they met hers. He hovered over her, trying to calm her down. Oliver pulled her head to his chest, kissing her temple and encompassing her in his arms. “You’re okay, you’re safe.”

“Where am I?” She wheezed.

“China. You’re at a hospital in China,” he breathed quickly, “and you’re okay. I’m right here, baby. It’s okay.”

Felicity nodded, nothing else seemed important besides that. She was okay, and he was there. She grabbed onto the collar of his t-shirt without warning, pulling him down. 

Then she kissed him hungrily, earning surprised lips in return. She leaned back, pulling him down until he was hovering over her. “Come in here,” she mumbled breathlessly, “need to feel you.”

He didn’t object, finally catching up enough to climb into the bed with her. But he kept his body safely above hers, hovering over her and being careful not to put any of his weight on her. 

That wasn’t  _feeling_ him. She growled, yanking his hips down onto hers desperately, needing his warmth. But he was still hesitating, only giving her partially what she was looking for. He ground his hips against hers in slow circles, but he still kept the rest of him off her.

Annoyed, Felicity shoved him until she had him on his back, and then she climbed on top. His eyes snapped open, flying to hers, “hey woah, easy honey.” He warned, but she was breathless and the fire she felt in the pit of her stomach had never been so intense. She needed him. Bad. The extreme desire took her by surprise, but she was incapable of stopping it. A tiny piece of her felt like crying she was so desperate to feel him making love to her.

“Slow down, slow down.” He sighed, completely thrown off by her, which was fair considering she’d been unconscious five minutes ago. “Felicity, the doctor needs to check on you.”  

She whimpered, kissing him fervently. When she circled her hips over him, she felt how hard he was, rubbing between her legs, and she moaned. She  _needed_ to feel him.

And Oliver responded by lifting her up, removing her body from his. He raised his eyebrows at her. “No,” he said, shaking his head. “Absolutely not.” He held her above him, preventing her hips from moving against him, and the loss was crushing.

“What?” She breathed, frowning.

“No. No way, Felicity. We are not having hospital sex after you nearly died on me. You need to see the doctor. And you need to rest.” He asserted, his voice full of authoritative resolve. 

She had no excuse or explanation for the tears that sprang to her eyes. It just happened.

Oliver’s eyes widened as he stared up at her. “Shit,” he cursed, his fingers tightening on her waist. He gently let her back down, sitting her back onto his lap but holding her hips tightly, keeping her from moving. “I’m sorry,” he said, “I didn’t mean to sound harsh. There were just a couple moments there when I thought I was going to lose you...and I was not expecting you to wake up with all this... _energy_.”

She nodded, sucking her bottom lip into her mouth when she felt it trembling. She understood what he was saying...but Oliver had hardly ever turned her down. She blinked, trying to understand why she was so emotional. 

She’d felt like she needed him  _so_ much...she still did.

She’d woken up thinking about that night in the bunker. She’d dreamed about it. And her dream had been so vivid, a perfect memory of that night. It made her  _need_ him. 

She felt like it’d been years since she’d seen him. Too long.

She craved that connection on a primal level. A passion that only he was able to bring out of her. Felicity glanced away as she slid off of him, moving to curl up in the bed next to him. He sighed, “I should go talk to you doctor...let you get some sleep,” he kissed her hair, but she dug her nails into his arm when he tried to get up.

Now he was just trying to hurt her, “No, Oliver” she begged, “please stay.”

Oliver’s face broke, and he quickly pulled her into his arms. “Of course. Of course I will,” he promised, kissing her head over and over.

He ran his hands soothingly through her hair, trying to coax her to sleep, but she was wired. Thoughts of dying and never being with him again were too much to handle. Her mind was tired, but her body wanted him. 

Her forehead was numb from her injury and she was having flashes of memory, seeing Dinah in her mind’s eye...holding a flame against her forehead to stop the bleeding. She cringed, had that really happened? She reached up to the spot that the gash should be, her fingers grazing the bandage for a moment before Oliver caught her fingers. “Don’t touch it, baby,” he mumbled, kissing her fingers. “You’re safe now. Just rest.”

“The others...” she breathed.

“They’re all okay, too. Dinah and Lance are staying overnight, just like you. And the others are at a hotel. You’re awake now, and the doctors said we should be able to go home tomorrow, okay?” He spoke lowly, soothingly, his fingers tracing in her hair the whole time.

She remembered Dig sitting beside her as he smoothed her hair away from her face, too...on the burning island...just before he’d held her shoulders down to keep her from thrashing as Dinah cauterized the wound. Her memory was getting a little clearer, and it made the gash on her head swell with a sharp phantom pain. She cried out, heavy tears springing to her eyes, but Oliver’s shirt was already wet with tears.

He pulled back to look at her face, his eyes softening in worry. “Felicity...” he whispered, “I’m getting your doctor.” She choked out a sob, digging her fingers into his skin to keep him with her. “What hurts? What’s wrong, honey?” She shook her head, gripping his shirt in tight fists, silently pleading with him not to leave her. His eyes looked pained for a moment as he understood, and then he was kissing her, a low growl rising in the back of his throat.

Felicity had never felt more desperate for anyone before, her breath hitching as she realized his intentions. His change of heart. 

She tried to climb on top of him again, but he gently pinned her hips to the bed, grunting his disapproval with a slight shake of his head. 

Oliver gently rolled on top of her, and she relaxed. He barely put any of his weight on her, but she didn’t complain because he was between her legs. She moaned, meeting his lips in a softer, less jarring pace. She subdued her needy, spirited movements in exchange for Oliver’s slow, careful touches. It felt just as good. Any way he touched her felt incredible.

“Felicity...” he whispered her name again, pressing a hand to her stomach to keep her safely on the bed when she tried to thrust against him again. “Are you sure you want to do this?” She nodded adamantly. He slipped his hand between them and slowly circled her sex with his thumb, keeping his finger on top of her underwear and closing his eyes when he felt how wet she was, soaking right through her panties. “You feel okay?”

“Yes Oliver, yes, please,” She begged, nodding eagerly, Felicity wiggled her way out of the uncomfortable hospital gown she wore. Her eyes still felt a little red and puffy, but when she offered him a shy smile, he gave one back. “I love you.”

“I love you.” He breathed, pressing his forehead to hers.

Felicity spread her legs wider, lifting her hips in a silent invitation. And Oliver grunted as he slipped her panties off, dropping them on the floor beside the bed. Then his clothes came off. He brushed his thumb over her cheek as she reached for his cock, lining him up at her entrance and sighing. And Oliver easily slid home, thrusting into her at a slow, tantalizing pace. “Yes, Oliver,” she breathed, amazed at how every inch of her body, everything inside of her, relaxed as soon as he filled her completely. They both paused, their breaths mixing as they opened their eyes, meeting the other’s gaze. 

Feeling her walls pulse around him, she sighed. Oliver stared down at her, his eyes transfixed on hers. Felicity swallowed, her heart trying to jump out of her chest, and she started bucking her hips, lifting them off the bed, craving some friction.

His palms pinned her waist down, making him slip out of her slightly, and they both moaned. He pushed back in, “don’t move, Felicity. We shouldn’t even be doing this.”

Felicity smiled crookedly, “but it’s kind of hot, right?”

He chuckled, shaking his head as he leaned down to hiss her chest. “It’s very hot.  _You’re_ very hot.” He murmured into her skin.

“Then fuck me like you want to.” She whispered.

Oliver’s head snapped up, his eyes sparking with desire, and he groaned. “Felicity, don’t tempt me...” He trembled, pulling out of her agonizingly slow until just the tip of his cock was inside of her. “Not tonight.” He gasped. She shivered,  _next time_  hung between them like a promise.

But then he pulled out of her completely, and she cried out at the sudden loss, afraid he’d changed his mind again. She looked up at him, prepared to start convincing him that she was  _fine_. But he grinned down at her, running his erection between her folds, using it to rub against her clit, and her eyes rolled closed. She did her best to stay still like he’d asked, but she couldn’t stop the way her hips gently rolled to meet his cock. 

When Oliver drove into her again, it was faster, and she moaned loudly, causing Oliver to drop his mouth to hers, swallowing the noise.

She heard and understood every breath and moan that came out of this man, but she stopped being able to hear her increasing heart monitor. Oliver didn’t seem to notice either, he just continued to thrust into her, driving her body and soul into a passionate and perfect state of being, where nothing else mattered but them. 

This was everything she’d been missing.  _This_ was what she needed. Always. For the rest of her life.  _Him_. “I need you, Oliver,” she breathed, hooking her ankles over his back, wanting every part of her touching every part of him. 

His eyes lulled open to look down at her. He pushed into her again, his hips flexing against hers, “I’m right here, baby...” he promised, kissing her lips softly.

She shook her head, “I’m always going to need you. And I want you to know that I’ll never forget that. I made a mistake. Never again.”

He nodded slowly, his eyes telling her how much it meant to him to hear her say it. And he knew that she genuinely believed it. She had always relied on him, as soon as his life had touched hers, she’d needed him to stay, no matter what they were to each other. Lovers, friends, soulmates, whatever they were, he was her equal. Every day.

He’d never gone anywhere, and now she was more certain than ever that he never would.

Felicity gripped his ass in her hands, pulling him into her with every thrust. God, he felt so good. Perfect. The passion between them was so intense, her orgasm rising in the pit of her stomach, her legs starting to feel numb, her toes curling.

The door swung open suddenly, and Felicity felt her breath catch, but her body was too far gone to give anything more. Oliver dropped his head to her neck, hiding it, and Felicity glanced around his shoulder. His hips slowed, but didn’t stop, as if he had no control over it, no more than she did. She bit back a moan as Oliver’s heavy breath warmed the skin at her throat.

Luckily the blanket covered them, but the nurse at the door obviously wasn’t an idiot...and she shook her head, trying not to smile as she silently glanced at Felicity’s heart monitor. 

Right. That high-pitched, frantically beeping thing.

Seemingly satisfied with the cause of her alarming heart rate, the nurse left as quickly as she’d come.

Oliver panted, his hips picking up their speed again when he heard the door click shut, plunging into her as if nothing happened. He lifted his head from her neck, opening his eyes to look down at her. And they were right back in the moment.

Felicity moaned, keeping her eyes on his. She slid her hand between them, rubbing her clit in quick circles. Oliver bowed his head to watch, his own grunts and moans releasing from his throat and turning her on even more. 

She came unexpectedly, a sharp cry releasing from her throat before Oliver covered her mouth. Her eyes rolled back, her whole body tensing as he continued to piston into her. Her walls squeezed around him, sucking him in and causing his orgasm to race through him. And that was her  _favorite_ thing; when he felt her orgasm around him and it encouraged his own.

He cried out as he came, chasing hers, pounding into her a little harder than he had been, losing his control with his last thrusts as he filled her. 

“Mmm,” she moaned as he held himself above her, feeling his cock jerking inside of her with his release, filling her. “See? I feel so much better. Totally cured.”

He snorted, catching his breath as he looked down at her. “This scar says differently.” He said frowning as his eyes shifted to her forehead.

Felicity just smiled, picking her head up to kiss his face, tasting the faint sheen of sweat on his temple. She peppered kisses all over his face as they caught their breaths, feeling him softening inside of her, but neither of them wanted to move. She was on cloud nine, and he was staying up there with her whether he liked it or not. “You’ll never convince me that this wasn’t exactly what we needed.”

Oliver smirked, shaking his head before kissing her, “But I will still tell you how foolish it was to have hospital sex after you were on an exploding island.”

She hummed, wrapping her arms around him and pulling his face to hers, “It didn’t feel very foolish,” she whispered.

“No,” he agreed immediately, shaking his head, “it definitely didn’t. We have a lot to talk about, though.” he whispered against her lips.

“Mm-hm,” she agreed, “lots of words to be said. And lots of orgasms to be had. Talking and sex. Those are my plans. How about you?”

He had to smile, and she grinned back, proud that she’d gotten one out of him. “First you’re going to get a good night’s sleep. And then I’m going to take you home. But...talking and sex with you...could be my plans for a very long time to come.”

“ _Will_ be your plans for a very long time,” she corrected, her voice low as she pulled his mouth to hers, wrapping her arms around him and running her hands over his shoulders. “As soon as you take me home.”


End file.
